Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jason Todd falls from a rooftop the night he meets his soulmate.

A lot of things had happened in his life before that moment —So many things he almost believed he would never (Seriously, like never ever) got to live long enough to meet her.

Well, truth be told, he didn’t know it was going to be her.

A doctor! Of all people –His soulmate was a fucking doctor!

It is almost ironic: Red Hood’s soulmate is a medic; someone whose whole deal is to heal people.

And well, his whole deal is usually killing people.

From his point of view, laying down on a lonely street, some Gotham alley that most people tend to avoid with pretty good reasons –As Jason learns that day. She looks so young he even wonders how could she hold a medical ID hanging over civilian clothes.

She is so focused in taking care of his blood loss that she seems to not notice how her ID rumbles over her own soulmate timer that has stopped running entirely, marking a perfect 00:00 freshly engraved on her pale skin.

The exact same mark he now holds on himself.

It was so distracting –The moment he felt the sudden tingling on his skin, in a place where he didn't have any sensibility after coming back from the dead, made him stopped on his tracks while running from a local mob.

Obviously, Jason Todd would never have thought he would get so distraught as to fell off in front of her.

Was it a good first impression? Hell, was it even a decent one?

He is bleeding out a lot from his leg, he can feel it. Even if he is distracted by the whole soulmate deal. The blood is staining his pants an ugly shade of red.

What would he have fallen into?

“It’s okay buddy” She whispers. She puts on such a soft voice, as she is talking to an infant. Jason’s mind wanders if his nephew, Domi, would like her voice. Domi always likes soft voices better. “You’re going to be okay”

Ten years ago, when he died, his mark changed.

For most people, soulmates’ marks are like a clock, always tickling. Counting back the minutes until you met the person you are going to spend the rest of your life with. One way or another. Your person.

The night Jason died, his mark hadn’t even reach anywhere close to its end.

It was such an odd thing really, even if you didn’t date or marry your soulmate, you’ll always get to know them before your dead.

It was an implicit rule.

On that horrible night, Jason felt his soulmate’s mark ticking under the fabric of his suit, pulsing like a second heart on the sensitive skin of his arm. It gave him comfort, actually.  His timer marked ten years more before he even got the chance to meet his soulmate.

He got time.

That thought alone, and the trust he had on his dad arriving on time, helped him overcome the overwhelming fear he held on his chest when he understood Joker’s true intentions.

Jason couldn’t die that night, right?

His soulmate was waiting for him in the future.

“You’re going to be okay, buddy” The voice of his soulmate shakes him off his flashback. Her hands go around his leg with precaution “Just stay awake, okay? Focus on me.”

It is clear she is actively trying to downplay her own freaking out. Jason notices the brief shaking on her voice. He supposes that anyone on her position would have completely panicked by then. It is a lot of blood coming off his leg, after all.

And after all, he is the red hood. 

A criminal, a mob boss, a killer.

A criminal whose soulmate is a fucking doctor.

There is blood. So much blood. Jason is not strange to being injured, but even then, he can tell something is just so wrong with the way his leg feels. He drowsily asks himself if she would have ever taken care of someone he took down.

It is strange, in some way. The dizziness and the mixed thoughts. The harsh pain makes him remember a harsh sensation he has feel before. It is something he can’t put his finger on.

Right?

He cannot put his finger on the sensation.

He has felt a pain like that before. Harsh, cold and sudden. It feels like someone beat him out of the blue. His leg is pulsing with energy, bursting with a blood flow that dyes his soulmate’s clothes with quickness. Jason shakes his head to let the intrusive thoughts go away.

He has been beaten before...

... before?

Jason shuts his eyes and tries to stop his body from shaking. He does not want to remember anything. Not on that moment. Not at all.

Blood

Blood out. Move. Try to think about something different. Don't look in front of you.

Blood.

His blood.

"You're hyperventilating" Her voice stops his railing sense thoughts, helping his way back to current reality "Stay with me, okay? You're gonna be okay"

His dad –No, no. Bruce, he has told Jason that his own father was a doctor all his life.

Bruce told Jason all about his surgeon hands and his perfect accuracy, how everything Sir Thomas Wayne managed was based on his trusted clinical eye.

Thomas Wayne had wished that Bruce became a doctor.

Something that obviously never had the chance to happen, even if Bruce himself admitted he thought about the idea to enroll to medical school. Just to honor his father's legacy.

Jason's mind wonders if, in any other universe where Bruce did become a doctor, he would have the same comforting voice tone as his soulmate. Or even a similar gentle touch over his wounds. To distract him from the pain, his mind guesses if he has ever been treated with such kindness before.

If that is the moment he truly dies, once and forever, he doesn't care about anything else at all.

He finally had the chance to meet her.

She looks small. Such a petite woman with such a fierce will. He feels her hands going around his legs as his breath started to slow down for a bit. The thought trail becomes much slower. Tiny hands for a tiny woman. Jason allows himself to rest. She is tying a piece of cloth around his thigh.

He feels mesmerized. Is he dreaming? It doesn’t matter this time.

"Can you tell me your name?" She hurriedly asks

Her curly hair bounces over him as she finishes tying the rope over his wound. She has small freckles on her right cheek and big blue eyes with the longest, curliest lashes he has ever seen on his life.

She is beautiful. And skillful. Jason can’t breathe deep enough to calm himself.

“Alia?”

The name escapes from his lips even before he can realize he read it out loud from the ID over her pocket.

It feels like a dream. Like none of it was real. She is not there, not really. It is a dream. He is going to wake up in his nightmares.

Jason had dreamt about her before. After he came back from the dead all of his dreams were a mixture of Joker’s hands, Batman's cape and her voice.

Usually, she didn’t say much in his dreams. Only a few whispers, sometimes he even heard her say his name, calling him in the dark like a lost soul.

“Yeah, that’s my name”

She jokes and spins around the empty alley as if looking for any help, but there isn’t a single soul wandering those lonely streets. She stares at the floor blankly, not truly realizing she has never mentioned her name to him.

“I’m not a doctor yet” She mentions “, just a student, and I'm afraid this is not a hospital, so there’s just so little I can do for the moment but I’m going to call an ambulance for you, okay buddy? We’ll get you help”

“No” Jason immediately says. The panic on his voice is evident “I don’t have insurance”

It is the first excuse that comes to his mind. He can’t end up on a hospital bed after a simple patrol night. It would lead to too many questions to cover up –And too many jokes from his siblings for nights to come.

“Don’t worry about the cost. All Gotham’s hospitals have Wayne Medicare”

Fuck.

Chapter Text

The night Alia meets her soulmate, she is lucky she doesn’t faint.

She really thought she would never have the chance to meet him.

Well, she didn’t know it was going to be him.

She is coming off a 24 hour turn when she sees him falling off the sky night as deadweight. As a premonition. The impact comes with a dry sound. Alia watches with horror as a pool of blood flows out of him instants after the hit.

Is he dead?

Her arm is burning. She doesn’t care. Her mother had described to her the characteristic burning sensation the last few seconds before meeting a soulmate. A signal. A premonition.

Fresh into her first year of residency, Alia runs to the wounded man in a Gotham alley. The voice in her head screams: THIS IS GOTHAM! THIS IS AN ALLEY! THIS. IS. DANGEROUS!

She runs.

She is a doctor before anything else. Some people liked to say that such a career path is almost identical to a priesthood, and in some way, Alia agrees with them.

She decided to turn her entire life to medicine, her passion, after… well, after, uh… The incident.

Many years ago, her mark stopped counting.

It seemed infinitely frozen in time. Alia and her whole family had searched for answers almost everywhere. They read almost every book about soulmates and to their understanding, it seemed like an unusual, unprecedented event. Something that was not recorded, ever.

Alia was an outcast.

“I have a nephew” Red hood blurts out of the blue. “He’s just a baby but… I-I never thought uh, I had to think about what to tell him”

They are still in the alley. He is still trying to convince her to not call an ambulance.

How long has it been since the initial hit? A couple minutes. The average blood loss for moderate injuries is about half a litter. Maybe a little more than that. If he loses any more than a litter, he could get a hypovolemic shock and will be requiring a transfusion.

Hopefully, it doesn’t get that bad. But to prevent it to progress any further, she needs backup. An ambulance. Tools. Something more than her own two hands and a piece of fabric she managed to tore apart from his pants.

He is babbling, probably because the blood loss. She has seen it before in some patients. It is a triad of symptoms: Uncoordinated, babbling and then unconscious. It indicates rapid cognitive dysfunction. Like his mind indicating it is going out of fashion.

She has to keep him awake until she can control her own fingers to be able to call 911.

She is kinda proud of herself, though. She had kept her cool around her first-hand accident. She helped him. Completely on her own. At the maximum of her own capacities. First aid help really, but help nevertheless.

“What are you going to tell him?”

Red hood keeps silent for a minute after Alia’s question. She just wants him to keep talking. Babbling is such much better than unconscious. His breath is heavily shaking. He is clearly in a lot of pain and is struggling more to breathe normally with every passing second. But even then, he does not allow her to remove his helmet.

“I didn’t think I would have the chance to meet you” Red Hood softly admits after a while “, it’s odd”

Alia shakes her head to dismiss his words. Her arm had stopped pulsating a few minutes ago. Maybe it is because of the adrenaline rush.

“Me?”

“Yeah” Red Hood simply answers “My soulmate”

WHAT?

Alia feels her heart stopping inside her chest. A pulsating sound coming from inside her ears. Her gaze becomes instantly cloudy. Her phone almost falls from her already shaking fingers.

Soulmate?????

Alia is an outcast. A woman with a frozen timer. Forever stuck, forever wondering. That is just how she is. She came to terms with it a long time ago. It is a fact about herself: She is an outcast.

And so is her soulmate.

Who would have thought?

The Red Hood turns out to be her soulmate?

She has heard a few stories about him: He killed a whole mob in one night. He controls Gotham’s nightlife. He is feared amongst the worst of the worst.

And he is her soulmate.

Alia really doesn’t know how to feel.

Well, no, she does.

She is definitely going to faint.

Chapter Text

Red Hood has achieved the impossible.

On that fateful winter night, Red Hood, the criminal, the antihero, the vigilante convinces Alia Gomez to not call an ambulance.

"You need medical attention" She says breaking a long silence, with her lips pouting as she holds a phone in her trembling fingers. "An ambulance and a hospital. That's what you need"

They barely touched on the subject of soulmates, after the abrupt comment said between a stupor of physical pain and emotional shock.

There are many words to say, many questions to ask, but none of the them feels brave enough to take that first step.

"You're a doctor, right?"

Alia seems to focus on what she knew to calm down. Red Hood just wants her to calm down.

Despite the mechanical and expert way in which she controlled the bleeding in his leg just a few moments ago, the doctor’s halo had slipped from her persona. Like turning off a switch in her personality.

Now she just trembles like an anxious chihuahua that doesn’t know what to do with itself. He is still sitting on the floor, half dizzy from the blood loss and the freezing Gotham weather.

“Barely” she says and laughs lightly. Maybe because of the utterly weirdness of the circumstances “I just graduate med school but I’m starting my residency.”

“Really?” Red Hood asks “You’re very good, what’s your residency in?”

“Neurosurgery.”

“Oh.”

Of course, neurosurgery! A little nerd she had to be.

“I can’t go to a hospital, you know that” Red Hood says “The whole secret identity, you know?”

“Oh” It is Alia’s turn to say “I suppose that’s right but I can’t let you here. Superhero or not. You are going to be die if y-you don’t-”

Jason doesn’t know if it is the coldness of the night or the tricky situation for Alia but that trembling of her body only intensifies by each word she mumbles. He really needs her to calm down.

“Let’s do this” Red Hood says “First, take my jacket.”

“No way buddy” Alia immediately answers “You are the patient. Not me. I can take a little cold”

“Well, uh, in that case” Red Hood says “In my belt there is a button, uh… I can’t really reach it without opening the wound and you’re going to get mad if I do that, right?”

“Absolutely”

“Press it and my backup will be here. They can help me”

…

Just a few minutes passed.

Batman’s imposing figure appears like a shadow behind Alia’s small figure, who genuinely seems like she isn’t used to the sudden appearance of men behind her.

Great! His dad is there. How exactly is Jason going to explain why he fell from a rooftop?

“Red hood” Nightwing whispers “Are you alright?”

Alia’s blue eyes turn away from him to watch Nightwing descends from the fire escape of an apartment in a showy leap of grace.

“Oh shit I didn't know you work together”

They can't help it, Nightwing and Red Hood both laugh at her sudden expression. Running down through a lonely alley and not recognizing some of Gotham's most popular figures? She is definitely new in Gotham.

“Thank you, Dr. Gomez” Batman says, still standing behind her back.

His figure is imposing. The black suit presses against his muscles effortlessly. Jason knows he is trying his best to approach her with cautious, just to guess her true intentions. A classic tactic he taught him on their earlier days together.

“Oh fuck” She curses out loud, turning around to look at the man behind her “H-How do you know?”

“He saw your ID”

Red Hood immediately answers to stop the circus to keep on going. Her lack of awareness is funny but he is not letting them bother his soulmate with their silly strategies even more.

“Shit” She says, and in a movement that sought to hide her nervousness, she smooths the fabric of her shirt with her hands. "Anyway, he needs medical care”

Maybe she wants to look presentable in front of the Batman. Maybe she just needs something to distract her brain from whatever it is happening at the moment.

“We'll take care of him from now on” Batman replies.

Alia takes a deep breath. Her hands close around the fabric of her shirt while she attempts to clean them with her clothes.

“I’m being serious right now” She stands in front of Batman “He needs medical care. Not stiches. Not band aids. His wound is going to get infected and he should get tested for tetanus and have a round of antibiotics” Alia says “I know you surely do things your way, but he needs to go to the hospital”

…

There is something strange about this whole situation, Batman can sense it.

Usually guided by his logic and knowledge, Batman is no stranger to listening to his intuition as well. Sometimes he catches details that his mind processes without being entirely conscious of it, and it comes off as an intuition glance.

And there is something strange, very strange about the whole situation.

While Nightwing helps Red Hood to stand up without leaning on his injured leg, Batman quickly notices how Red Hood is holding the inner part of his right arm with his left hand.

Mmm…

Based on the fall trajectory he had calculated; it is unlikely that Red Hood had hurt that arm on the initial hit.

In addition, it would be illogical for him to support himself in that way since his right leg had been affected by the fall and he would be letting all his weight fall on it, accentuating the pain.

Mmm…

Batman stops looking at his sons to focus on the woman in front of him. At first, he believed she would some new member of the Maroni family, given they were in their territory. Then, he theorized she could be an old friend of Red Hood, an acquaintance he would have given a call to help him out. That last theory would not make too much sense as Red Hood was as stubborn as a mule and he would rarely agree to receive any help.

What was it then?

The woman is also holding her right arm with her left hand. She is covering something. Is she hurt too? The pale skin on her arm is slightly red, as if swollen under her hand.

What kind of wound could Dr. Gomez have inflicted on herself while treating Red Hood?

Suddenly, in Batman's mind, something just clicks.

Chapter Text

Alia doesn't understand why, of all people, Dr. Thompkins selected her as a companion for a visit to the Wayne Manor.

It is a great opportunity, clearly. Few people can say they had access to the home of such prestigious family. The owners of all of Gotham and half of the country.

Nothing more and nothing less.

However, Alia doesn't understand why such opportunity has come to her. She has been a good student during her years in med school but that was about it; Dr. Thompkins has been an incredible teacher, but they don’t have a particularly close relationship.

To top it off, Alia is training to be a neurosurgeon and she highly doubts any member of the Wayne family would need the services of a first-year neuro resident. All of its members, as far as Alia is concerned, are all active, young and healthy.

What would they need from her or her knowledge? Besides, Dr. Thompkins has more years practicing medicine than years Alia has alive.

Whatever reason it is, Dr. Thompkins has asked for her help.

Good luck babe

On the music player, a Chapell Roan song is playing.

The road to the mansion is long and dull. A series of winding roads leading up a hill on the outskirts of Gotham.

“I didn't think you'd like that kind of music” Alia comments, trying to fight the awkward silence "I mean, it's cool. I just didn't think it would be your taste"

You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

Dr. Thompkins laughs tenderly, both hands still on the steering wheel. She is a very good driver, perhaps the best in all of Gotham, Alia thinks. She is the only one Alia has seen to respect all traffic rules.

“You'd be surprised” Dr. Thompkins answers.

You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

“Have you ever met the Wayne family before?”

Alia shakes her head at the question.

“Not really. I don't think I've had the chance”

“I've known Bruce ever since he was a little boy” Dr. Thompkins tells her “Alfred and I took care of him when his parents died”

Alia nods. She has no idea who Alfred is, but she figures it won't be polite to ask about it. She barely knows Bruce Wayne is the owner of the hospital they work at.

She is fine with the information Dr. Thompkins feels comfortable sharing. After all, it isn't every day that someone has the opportunity to chat with one of Gotham's most prestigious medical figures on a one-to-one basis.

“I could tell you both did a great job” Alia quickly adds “He seems like a great gentleman from what I've heard."

Chappel's voice dies with the last notes of her song.

Good luck babe

Oh good luck

“I'm not so sure of that, you see” Dr. Thompkins says “His… life choices, I'm not fond of them” Her dark eyes seem lost in something else beyond “, but nevertheless, I'm proud of him. He is a good man” She comments “He cares deeply about his children”

In front of them, Gothic-style bars stand out, sealed and unmovable. Dr. Thompkins rolls down the glass on her side of the car and pokes her small brown-haired head out, smiling and waving her hand in front of what Alia assumes is a security camera.

Barely a second later, the bars mechanically swing open with silent efficiency.

“Look! They were waiting for us!” Dr. Thompkins exclaims.

Officially, they enter the Wayne family's territory. From her passenger seat, Alia shudders for no apparent reason.

There is something strange in the air, a certain sense of expectation. A feeling of foreboding.

If it wasn’t for the fact that Alia is used to work in high-pressure environments, it would have been nearly impossible for her to dispel the nervousness that is growing inside her.

She doesn't know what is causing it, but it is an almost uncontrollable feeling that has been with her for days.

Well, maybe it can be due to the fact that she discovered that her soulmate was a vigilante?

That's what they are called, right?

Alia has no idea if she will ever see him again. She can only pray to God that he is okay.

She wants to see him again, of course, but she has so little information about him that she doesn't even know where to start looking.

She knows he fights crime and it also part of the crime scene itself. He goes out at night. He has a partnership with Nightwing and Batman, and therefore, with Robin.

Red Hood is associated with the operations of some criminal gangs in Gotham, based on the little gossip she had heard from her colleagues.

How could she find him? Alia only has crazy ideas to make it work. Like going into more dark alleys and other dangerous situations.

She isn't crazy enough to expose herself to such a risk in a city she barely knows, though.

Dr. Thompkins is the first one to get out of the vehicle once it was parked. She grabs her white coat and briefcase from the backseat and jumps out of it with a joy out of tune with the dull city's climate.

Alia takes a deep breath and smooths out the folds of her own white coat, neatly folded across her lap, before working up the courage to step out of the car.

She knew the risks of moving to Gotham. Matter of fact, her family implored her not to go. To find a quota for her residency in Metropolis or even Star City, but she has been firm with her decision.

After all, what are a few years of her life, living in the most dangerous city in the country, in exchange for the opportunity to fulfill her lifelong goal?

At the entrance of the mansion, next to a huge dark wooden door, a pair of men are waiting for them.

“Good evening” A deep male voice says “, doctors.”

The owner is a man with broad shoulders and dark hair. His presence is magnificent. Dressed all in black, from head to toe. Short slick hair and deep eyes, which scans her immediately upon noticing her presence.

He smiles at her. A flirtatious, pearly-toothed smile.

Alia sighs, and returns the gesture to her interlocutor, putting on her best flirtatious smile as well, one that hides the knot in her stomach. She holds the fabric of her coat firmly.

Calm down, she tells herself. Gotham might be many things, but its medical program is the best in the entire region. This is a great opportunity

Dr. Elliot, her boss and mentor, is internationally acclaimed as one of the best -No! The best neurosurgeon.

In Gotham, there are all the opportunities for her. She can’t let her nerves get the best out of her.

“Brucie!” Dr. Thompkins says, and stretches out her arms to hug the huge man “It's great to see you! What have you been up to? Have you eaten well? Slept enough hours?”

Brucie doesn't answer, rather he hugs the woman back, who looks as tiny as a mouse in comparison to him. Next to the pair of the newly found friends, an old man with little hair laughs.

“Dear Leslie” The old man says “It seems like you do not know him”

The old man is slender and smaller than his younger counterpart. He is wearing an elegant black three-piece suit. His eyes flicker with warmness.

“Alfred, hello!” Dr. Thompson says, and then turns back to Alia, picking up her hand in a wavy gesture “This is Dr. Gomez, a new student of mine. I brought her as a backup, to teach her some new things.”

A look of curiosity appears on the faces of both men. It is evident. Alia shudders. There is an odd feeling in the room.

“Welcome Doctor” Alfred says, exchanging a light handshake with her “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I've heard a lot of things about you”

"All good things, sir, that's what I expect” Alia answers back, flashing a brighter smile at them.

I hope they don't notice that I feel like throwing up, she thinks.

“You have no idea” Bruce Wayne reiterates, and a complicity look passed over the three older adults.

Oh shit, have I said something too weird? Am I behaving weirdly. Yep. That is.

“Come in, please,” 'Brucie' Wayne says, opening the front door for them.

The hall that greets them is impressive: A construction made of marble and imposing pillars that greeted them from above. Alia swallows her shock and lets herself be guided patiently by those who moved around the place as if they knew it by heart.

Alia can't help but wonder: Who is the patient? Why do they need her?

The Wayne family had a long history of medical excellence, only stopped by the man in front of her. Brucie Wayne. His father, Thomas Wayne, had been the precursor of many advance surgery techniques. He was a legend on medicine, as so was his father.

They are led into a room, behind whose doors stand four people: Two tall men, a woman with long black hair, and…

A baby!

He is a small human with dark, spiky hair, the funny way some infants’ hair grew. He has tanned skin and round, bright cheeks. He also has the cutest brown eyes Alia has seen in a long time.

Although she had never been particularly good at pediatrics, she does have a soft spot for children. Especially when they are as cute as that baby.

It’s something biological maybe. Or maybe she is just a sucker for cute things.

She is so absorbed in the baby's cuteness that she barely notices the man holding him in his arms, who as soon as he notices Alia's presence, begins to rock the baby faster.

“Dr. Gomez” Dr. Thompkins catches Alia’s attention “Let me introduce you to my friends: Damian, Akiko and Jason”

The emphasis on that last name struck Alia as odd, but she thinks little of it. In front of her, the three adult figures seem more interesting than any of her mental ramblings.

Alia knows little about body language or reading things out of people, but she can tell a couple of things about them:

First, Damian (who she has determined to be the tall, athletic man), must be, in some way, a direct relative of the baby in the room. Their similarity is too much for it to be otherwise.

Maybe the father? She mentally checks out.

Second, Akiko, the only girl, belongs to some sort of aviation academy. The uniform she wears, a white and blue button-down shirt with yellow stripes. Alia has frequently seen it among the pilots at Gotham Airport.

The mother? A sister?

Third, Jason, who is a man with bright green eyes. Like really bright. With an almost supernatural tint to them. He is a curious sight, watching him rock the child in his arms with such affinity when he is all muscle.

“Good evening” Alia says “It's a pleasure to meet you all”

Damian and Akiko smiles at her. Their smiles are filled with mischief and something else that Alia can't quite place.

Jason, on the other hand, raises his eyebrows for a moment and looks away at the ground.

It doesn't go unnoticed to Alia how Damian and Akiko, almost simultaneously, elbows Jason from each one of their sides.

“Good evening doctor” Jason mumbles, without taking his eyes off the ground. “Welcome”

How strange, Alia thought, maybe he is quite shy.

Yep, that’s it. She prefers to think about that rather than ponder the idea that the man might simply reject her presence. Either way, he is really attractive.

Calm down, Alia thinks, be professional. You are professional, right?

“Who's this little buddy?” Alia asks, to continue the conversation in the real world and quiet the wild thoughts in her head.

“Dominicus Wayne”

What a curious name for a baby.

Akiko takes the initiative, approaching them and pulling Jason and baby Dominicus with her.

“We call him Domi usually”

Akiko explains with such a soft smile, taking one of the baby’s hands to gesture a greeting to the pair of doctors. Jason keeps rocking the baby nervously.

Domi and Dami, Alia thinks, they’re definitely father and son.

Behind them, the figure of Damian Wayne stands proud and still, his eyes following the events in front of him closely.

“Can you do a quick check up, Dr Gomez? I have to talk to Mr. Wayne about some issues” Dr. Thompkins asks Alia “I'm sure it's going to be a nice recap of your time at Peds”

Chapter Text

Red hood is going to kill the Joker.

No, not Red Hood.

Jason is going to kill him. With his bare hands.

As he stands silently, watching his newfound soulmate speak with some members of his family, Jason reflects on the entirety of his life decisions.

Just a few days ago he had fell down from that rooftop on a loony alley and he already can tell that paranoia inside him does nothing but grow every second.

His therapist will hear about it, for sure. The whole situation feels like a huge setback from all the work they had accomplished together.

First of all, he had convinced her to push the comm on his jacket to call Nightwing once she recovered from the initial commotion of the whole soulmate deal (He remembers her disheveled face reflecting the pale moonlight with way too much detail to determine it feel like something purely casual).

Second, Batman and Nightwing himself had appeared in front of them a couple minutes later. As silent as a ghost and as talkative as ever. Looking at the scene unfolding in front of them with those micro expressions of them that told Jason they knew what was happening (Another huge setback!).

Last but not least, Jason has been spying on her since that night.

Well, to be fair it is not him per se. (Just because he isn’t able to personally follow her as his wounded leg is pretty much still wounded).

It just became family business once everyone got ahold of the circumstances. The news spread like a fever, infecting everyone with a newly discovered obsession.

“She’s 22!” Tim exclaimed.

Tim was typing furiously on the keyboard of the main computer on the Bat Cave, in that maniac fashion only he knew to handle. It was just a shy of a couple hours after Jason had met his soulmate but the excitement was way too powerful for any of them to wait until the next sunrise to get into it.

In the computer screen, a thousand photos of Alia appeared in front of them. CCTV frames, social media pictures and even old yearbook pictures came out from Tim’s search.

“Jason!” Duke exclaimed “Twenty-two! As in double twos! Where do you find this chick?”

“Don’t call her a chick” Stephanie told Duke “That’s Jason’s girl. Show some respect”

It was good. Yeah, it was good to be back with all of them together. Even if it meant having them gossiping around like schoolgirls on a school night. It was a good thing, Jason thought. It didn’t happen often that any of them gathered for anything else than patrol.

“Here says she’s from Central City” Akiko added “We could ask Barry about her!”

She was holding her place at one of the sides of the computer, messing up with Tim’s work by kidnapping the mouse to pinpoint whatever info she fancied best.

Jason smiled at the kid. He couldn’t lie – Akiko was his favorite sister-in-law just because of how bold she was when messing around the family.

“Ts Nyingdu-la” Damian said, using that special nickname he only called Akiko, his soulmate “That’s unlikely. Barry Allen does not know every single person on Central City”

Bruce used to call Damian the same way when he was younger in an effort to bond with him but Damian didn’t appreciate it as much. Akiko and him used to tease the nickname around to bother his father and it kind of stuck around for the years to come. Jason guessed it was Damian’s own strange way to show affection.

“It is worth a shot” Bruce said

Bruce stayed at Cassandra’s side a few feet away from the main computer, where they both were reviewing some files from old cases. They both were trying their best to remain as seemingly uninterested as possible, but the whole family knew it was just a façade. They were the main gossipers all around.

“We have to make sure she’s not crazy” Barbara added through the comms “Like supervillain crazy”

Her work as Oracle did wonders for the team. Jason had to admit she was a true natural when it came down to tech, even when it meant collecting all sorts of information on Jason’s soulmate.

“She seems like a lovely girl” Alfred told directly to Jason.

His words were meant to be comforting, Jason guessed, but they did little to no effect to his disheveled nerves.

It felt… too real.

“Yeah” Jason managed to muttered “She was… very kind”

“Only kind?” Dick erupted from his seat “She fought Batman over your medical needs. I think that girl is exactly everything that we expected your soulmate to be”

Jason doesn't know exactly how he feels about her. It isn't love. No. Of course it isn’t. More like an ownership kind of feeling. She is his soulmate, so he has to take care of her.

His, his, his.

She hasn’t seen him without the helmet. She can’t recognize him the same way Jason recognizes her.

Recognize might not be the word. He has memorized every single detail he could recall about her ever since they met –Her big blue eyes, her pale skin, the freckles on her right cheek, the soft blush on her nose, her black curls.

Much to his own dismay, she has become his new obsession.

"Aww, look at you!" Alia says while checking the insides of Domi’s mouth with a small lantern "You grew whole teeth! Very good!"

It is no lie. Domi has gained almost thirty-two whole pounds since he first arrived to Gotham. He is the absolute light of the family, despite the unfortunate circumstances on which he has come to. Everyone loves that small bundle of joy and his contagious laughter.

Jason adores him. He would do anything for that kiddo. To protect him from ever becoming something as remotely close as what Jason did. Domi is all laughs and smiles and he hasn’t a remote idea of anything but to play with his toys and run all around with his messy baby legs.

They had quickly bonded. The baby and him. Mainly because he liked the idea of bothering Bruce while babysitting his youngest kid but also because Domi was a pretty smart kid which made easy to get along with him during his assigned nights off duty.

Now Domi enjoys the sound of motorbikes as much as he does with any cartoon show and would often imitate it to make others play. The whole family blames Jason for that (And they are right).

Jason doesn’t consider himself a dreamy man after all the things he has done on his life (Maybe just a little bit. Just because he has read Pride and Prejudice more times than he’d admit), but there is simply something in the way Alia’s wavy hair curls down her face, making such a pretty contrast with the whiteness of her doctor coat, that makes him blush.

“Is he okay?” Akiko’s voice shakes him out of his thoughts.

"Mama" The baby reaches out Akiko, stretching his tiny arms to get her "Mama, mama"

The baby babbles once she holds him up and Akiko smiles at him, trying her best to make him quiet so they can properly talk.

"Yes mum" Alia says in a baby voice. "He's a strong, healthy boy. This is just a checkup"

It is an old habit that she developed from her time in pediatrics, surely. Jason knows children love baby voice. Akiko barely giggles back nervously, clearly uncomfortable.

Alia would surely have heard a thing or two about Akiko –She is the partner of Damian, the youngest of the Wayne siblings under the public eye. It would have been easy for her to assume some things.

How would have guessed otherwise? But things are complicated between those two, as everything is with any member of the family. Despite them being soulmates, they just can’t figure it out their minds about each other.

“Oh, I’m not his bio mom. I just, uh, I’ve just taken care of him ever since he was little” Akiko says “He used to be so loud, always crying. He’s just quiet now, and doesn’t talk as much as one may expect, even if I try to teach him other words aside from mama, Dami and gun”

Domi remains content playing with Akiko’s hair while Alia listens intently to her words as she takes care of cleaning and storing her implements inside her suitcase. Methodically organized, fitted together like pieces of a puzzle.

Alia likes order; Jason notices.

“You could take him to a specialist if you are worried”

He notices the recommendation is more for Akiko's peace of mind than because of a real necessity to visit another doctor.

It is kinda ironic, Jason thinks as he notices Alia’s shaking fingers, how she notices Akiko's nerves while she can barely perform her normal activities.

What is making her so anxious?

“How exposed is he to other people?” Alia asks “other kids?”

“He barely goes out of the Manor”

It is a recurring topic. One that Jason is a particular fan of, as he has advocated for it multiple times.

“They’re scared something is gonna happen to him if he’s outside of reach.” Jason can’t help but add “We try our best to be around him most of the time, but we don’t think it’s a good idea to put him in daycare yet. He’s just… so little”

Alia tilts her head when she hears his words, Jason fears that her big blue eyes will devour his soul with a single glance.

Jason's mind remembers a tune that he can’t put his finger on the exact lyrics. Only the melody, a contagious one. It is surely a pop song, but he doesn't know which one it is.

“I take him out to my home some nights, and we have sleepovers together with my parents but even then, it’s just family” Akiko adds

Domi moves around Akiko’s arm, centering his attention in Alia’s curls. He tries to reach her black hair with his tiny hands.

“What does he normally do every day?”

“I’m not sure, uh. I’m out in the sky most of the time" Akiko then rushes to explain “I’m taking flight classes” She says "but I, uh, believe he wakes up early and spends the day with Alfred”

“I wouldn’t worry so much really. It seems like most of you don’t talk that much. Maybe it’s something blood related”

Alia jokes and both Akiko and Jason laugh. Damian only furrows his condemned expression even more.

“No, but really. Children this little usually learn how to talk from the people around them, so it makes sense that he is not really talkative if his family doesn’t talk that much either." Alia explains "Even then, he’s just eighteen months. A few words are okay. He will learn in the next months. He’s a perfectly healthy baby”

Damian looks so serious; Jason knows that little brat is analyzing Alia's behavior. In the other hand, Akiko is all giggles and abrupt words. She is clearly so excited.

She really wanted to know Jason’s soulmate!

In a childish like behavior, she hadn't stopped bothering him to ask Alia out, even when he didn't have any idea on how to reach out to her without exposing his secret identity.

“I’m around most of the time” Damian tells Alia “I make sure to teach him all important things but I suppose I have not dedicated a lot of time to teach how to communicate”

That plan was the best they could elaborate. It was Akiko's idea. The rest of them were way too clumsy on those sorts of emotional stuff to make something decent out of it.

Before that one, all their other plan ideas involved a dangerous amount of stalking.

“He’s going to be okay, don’t worry” Alia says “, but either way, you could check up with a speech-language pathologist. Just to be sure”

She offers them a friendly smile, naive that the other three know a lot more about her than she could imagine.

Good luck babe

Oh, good luck

The lyrics appears on Jason's mind. A Chapell Roan song? He hasn't heard her music in quite some time. It is very weird that that specific song got stuck on his mind in that specific moment.

“I know but I liked the confirmation” Damian says

“Well enough, Mr. Wayne”

“Just Damian” He answers “Mr. Wayne is my father”

Alia simply nods.

“Damian then” Alia says. Her eyes pass around to Jason's sister-in-law “Akiko” Finally, her eyes fall directly on him “Jason"

Her gaze is deep, intense.

Jason and Alia locked eyes for a few seconds before breaking out the tense atmosphere.

"I can tell all of you care deeply about Domi. You could help him out teaching him words through communication. Talk to him as if he understands you, because he does" She explains "You could explain him some family business while you work. That’ll help him and won’t take too much of your time”

Akiko laughs out loud, making Domi laugh by inertia. Family business? It would be kinda complicated to explain it to a little baby.

“Let me check one last thing”

It is so very rare that Damian or Akiko or Jason –Or even Bruce himself– allow anyone outside the family to be that close to Domi.

No nurses, no doctors, no police man. Trust no one, right?

And there she is, Dr. Alia Gomez, holding Domi’s little hand to help him walk a few steps around the room with no objection as she said it would help to evaluate Domi’s coordination for his age.

Good luck babe

Oh, good luck

Watching them both together, like… like a family. It makes Jason feel… some type of way.

Watching the two of them together, so mindlessly playing with each other makes Jason certain of only one thing:

He is going to kill Joker.

It doesn’t really matter that his dad -No, Bruce won’t approve it.

Better Joker than Domi.

Better Joker than his Alia.

Could he mindfully sleep in a world where that madman was still alive? Not only that, but in a world where he knows for certain that his soulmate is pretty much alive and in the very same city as the clown that once destroyed everything Jason loved.

No. Just no.

As Alia exits the room, followed by Akiko who starts to ask her all sort of questions in a not-so-subtle-fashion (“Are you new in Gotham? Do you have any friends in the city yet?”), Damian positions himself next to Jason.

“I know the feeling”

“Uh?” Jason says “What feeling?”

“I evaluated how you look at her” Damian says “I wanted to determine how do you feel towards her. And I know that feeling. You cannot fight against it.” He adds “You would have to stop the world just to stop the feeling”

Jason looks back at Damian as if he has suddenly grown a second head.

“I moved to Gotham a couple weeks ago”

Alia and Akiko have spent the last twenty minutes talking in the Manor’s kitchen over two cups of tea and some cookies that Mr. Pennyworth offered them while they waited for Dr. Thompkins to come out of her reunion with Bruce Wayne.

Akiko seems like such a sweet girl, with the brightest smile Alia has seen in Gotham, where everyone is just so gloomy. She is so talkative, so friendly. Someone like her is truly unusual in Gotham City, as long as Alia can tell from her own limited experience.

Gosh, she really misses her home. Back in Central City, it’s usual for locals to be extroverts and very friendly people. Not so much in Gotham. Alia has to remind herself to not let her homesickness to get the best of her.

“Have you like it?” Akiko asks “This city and its people, uh, I know it’s not for everybody”

Not for everybody? It is a stretch –Gotham is a really… peculiar place. Like any city, it has its own perks and disadvantages. Maybe it has more disadvantages than perks but Alia thinks it is not a very kind thing to say to a Gothamite, specially not one as nice as Akiko.

“It’s a little scary, I’m not going to lie” Alia answers “, but I’ve loved Gotham’s medical program ever since I was in undergrad. Having the chance to come here was amazing”

She decides the most diplomatic way to handle the question is to highlight the good aspects of the city and discard the rest –Like the everyday burglars, the maniacs wandering the streets and the impending corruption.

Either way, it isn’t a lie. Ever since she was a kid, Alia heard wonders about Gotham’s higher education, especially in the health sector.

“I’ve heard of it” Akiko says “Where did you go to med school? Central City? I’ve heard they have a really good school around there”

Central City? It’s odd she mentioned it. Alia’s hometown didn't have a medical program. Nowhere nationwide are Central City and Medicine associated together.

Surely the girl is just confused.

“Central City doesn’t have a medical program” Alia says “I went to college overseas, in my father’s country. I lived there for a while during college”

Alia could swear that she notices how Akiko’s skin turned paled

She briefly remembers those good old college days: The sleepless nights studying on a coast city, the nightly walks to relax herself on those beautiful beaches, her friends, her undergrad routine.

All of that now feels like another lifetime. A completely different one from the harsh cold days on Gotham.

“Sounds like a good option too” Akiko says “Damian wants to be a doctor too but Bruce, uh, he thinks that’s going to distract him from his other responsibilities. He hasn’t set his mind on it yet thought”

So it was all about that? Akiko was worried about her boyfriend?

Alia isn’t so sure because she had just met them earlier, but if someone were to ask her, she would have bet the two of them are a couple. They just have something between them that make them feel so close and personal to each other.

“Oh, I see” Alia says and softly jokes “If he does go, you have to be patient with him. Med school can drive the sanest person crazy and you too seem like a lovely couple”

Akiko keeps silent for an instant. Her stare still and focused on the cup of tea between her hands.

“Do you have a boyfriend, doctor?”

Alia blinks a couple of times. What… What did she mean by that?

“Excuse me” Alia says “I didn’t mean for my words to be misinterpreted”

“WHAT?” Akiko erupts “No! No! I didn't mean it that way! Oh my god! I'm so sorry” The skin on her cheeks tints with a deep carmine blush “I was asking uh, because, uh, I know it's very common in med school to be married off young”

Alia laughs off. What kind of ideas does this girl have around med school?

“If anything, I'd say it's the opposite” Alia answers “, but no, I don't have a boyfriend. When I came here, I left everyone I knew back home and I haven’t been able to make a lot of friends here”

A pearly smile grows bigger in Akiko’s face. It is somehow full of mischief. It seems like a distinctive feature of hers.

“We could try and be friends then” Akiko says “I don't spend too much time on the ground and you're a doctor so I bet you're like busy all the time but you could, uh, you know, come to the Manor from time to time and talk for a bit” She suggests “Give me your number”

Chapter Text

“So…” Red Hood starts “Soulmates, uh? What an odd concept”

Under the light of artificial street lamps, Alia awaits for him.

Her dark hair is pulled back whilst her hands are stuffed into the pockets of her pink scrub. After thirty-two hours, she finally has time for him even though the fatigue in her eyes is evident, dark circles staining the delicate skin beneath her eyes.

It is a distant image from the calm, talkative Alia who visited them at the Mansion two weeks ago.

It is now an Alia who Red Hood finds all too familiar and comforting because of that pleasant routine they've slowly developed over the past few weeks: Meeting on the corner of the street next to the hospital where Alia works.

At first, he'd been worried: Alia spent too much time there, only making it to her downtown apartment on a handful of days.

Then he'd figured that it is normal for her –Spending her days shuttling between the hospital, her fluffy bed in her bachelorette apartment, and then the swim practices she always, always found a way to attend every day.

He couldn't judge her for the obsessive way she went about her life, after all, Red Hood has his own version of normality too.

He followed her. Yeah. He wasn't going to lie to himself. He watched her life closely as soon as he was able to go by himself again.

The thought of finding her and somehow losing her in the chaos of the city had tortured him from the start.

Paranoia is perhaps a trait he acquired from his years living with Bruce.

“Is it you?” Alia asks him, a rhetoric question “You feel different. Tired"

Her breath crystallizes against her cracked lips. Alia looks like an apparition in the middle of the night. Her curved eyelashes flutter in his direction as she blinks slowly. Sleepily, she gives Red Hood a soft smile.

This sheepish Alia looks a lot more like a Gothamite than ever before.

“You too” Red Hood answers and Alia imagines him smiling under that huge helmet “You’re the one covered in blood”

Pale, with dark circles under her eyes and her scrub partially covered in small dark stains that are easily identifiable as blood: She was a curious sight to behold.

“Hey! It has been a very complicated night”

Even though he can't find the right words to express it yet, Red Hood finds it admirable how Alia can keep her spirits up after such a long shift.

A Gotham hospital? Alia had surely seen everything that she studied in her textbooks and even more. Probably the worst of the worst.

“I can imagine” Red Hood says, and stretches out his arms towards Alia, holding a small package “I brought you dinner, uh. I guess you don’t have that much time to eat in your shift”

It is an honest concern. He wants to take care of her, to get to know her better. Fortunately, hospitals are sanctuary zones so his main concern is to keep Alia fed, rested, and sane.

Gotham have a reputation for driving its doctors insane.

“I haven’t eaten in like, I don’t know, twelve hours?” She says and the softly laughs to herself. She proceeds to check the lunch box as her smile grows bigger “How do you know I love sushi?”

A simple, humorous question. Answering it would mean accepting many things that she might find sinister. How to simplify the answer? He doesn't want to scare her, he doesn't know how to introduce his, uh, context to Alia's quiet life. Should he confess to her that he had followed her for several days?

 “Well, uh, I… the night we met you smelled like teriyaki sauce”

He is worried the comment might offended her, but it isn’t a lie. That night, she smelled like a lot of things -Teriyaki sauce, sweat, dried blood and a small sweeter hint of some women’s perfume.

Alia laughs it off, her pale cheeks turning a reddish blush.

“You have such a good memory then” She says “I couldn't guess something like that by myself”

Oh, but Jason is able to recall every single aspect about that night.

“I am a very good with details”

“I can tell”

Alia takes a quick bite of one sushi rolls. Beside them, the night grows larger and darker. He notices the tiredness on her face. Almost two days working with little to no stop.

She has that in common with himself and the rest of his family, something not even the otherwise normal Akiko can escape. They are all workaholics.

Alia sits cross-legged on a dirty stool beside her. Red Hood follows her. The concrete of the stool is so cold that the icy sensation penetrates the thick fabric of his pants until it reaches the sensitive skin around that old wound on his leg that is still in the healing process.

It is still early too. Eleven thirty-five p.m. In a couple of minutes, once his visit is over, he has to take care of some business at, uh, work.

Vigilante work.

“You know what?” Alia interrupts his thought process after chewing a couple rolls “I’ve dreamed of this moment before. Many years ago,” She shakes her head and then proceeds to stare at him with those big blue eyes of her “I was waiting”

“I’m sorry” Red Hood mutters before even being able to stop himself. He isn’t even thinking about what he is saying when he speaks. “It was my fault. I’m sorry I kept you waiting”

“I wondered what happened to you” Alia says, noticeably panic swallowing those rolls “I couldn’t dream for so long. My timer stopped but it didn't fade. No one understood it" Half-eaten her rolls, she is gushing them down while hurriedly talking. "I was afraid”

He imagines it. That time had been the worst time of his, uh, life? Technically, yeah. Life. It’s hard to tell the difference.

He tries to think about it as little as possible lately. The memories are just too dark, and he made his peace with Bruce and promised himself to do better, to develop a new identity that wasn’t tainted by the memories of a past life.

Meeting Alia at that exact point in his life felt almost like a divine sign: An opportunity.

He made so many mistakes, yeah. He felt so lost back then, with no memories, a stopped timer mark and nothing to hold on to. Few things made sense to him at the moment except violence and revenge.

“There’s things I’ve done that I cannot change but I-I, uh…”

Since when did Red Hood stutter?

“I didn’t imagine this feels so intense” He adds “I can’t stop thinking about you. All day. Every day. It’s a feeling of, uh, it’s like…”

“I think of you too” Alia interrupts his hesitation “I’ve asked every single one of my neighbors about you. I searched your name on the web” She confesses “I’ve waited for too long, for you”

She stares at him with those puppy eyes of her and suddenly he has forgotten how to breathe.

“My family and I looked up your whole life” He blurt out of the blue.

Jason silently curses his mouth out by being so stupid. What if she thinks that’s creepy? It isn’t very cool, chill guy to involve his whole family in the search of a girl he barely knows. Alia simply laughs for a bit.

“Do you wanna take a bite?”

Between the chopsticks she holds to eat, a single spring roll waits him, bobbing towards him as Alia brings it closer to his face.

Red Hood looks at her –Her petite frame, her blood-covered uniform, her unruly hair kept in a ponytail.

She seems so clueless. The farthest person he could ever imagine to be living the kind of life he and his family did. And the sole idea of involving her feels macabre.

Those are complicated topics with complicated answers and he does not want to explain it to her –Not right there at least.

He just wants to be there, with her. No explanations, no backstories, nothing.

Obviously, he can’t eat with his helmet on, but denying Alia the gesture felt just wrong.

He wants to be there, with her. Just that.

Just him and her.

As he took off his helmet. Alia just raises her eyebrows and blinks even slower. She seems to be moments away from falling asleep.

Alia brings the spring roll closer to his mouth in a light movement.

“Jason Wayne?” It is all she asks.

“Todd.” It is the only thing Jason dares to say back, still with his gaze completely fixed on his soulmate.

Now he is the one shaking. He doesn’t know if it is due to physical or mental exhaustion, but the lack of a stronger reaction from Alia deeply disturbs him.

Also, he doesn’t know if that makes him feel good or bad –He only knows that it is something extremely out of the ordinary for him.

“It’s good to finally see your face” Alia adds “To get to know you as you." She says "It explains a lot of things”

It is such a simple yet beautiful night.

He does take a bite of her sushi rolls, taking the food out of her hand as she offers him. A gesture so simple but so personal. It is really intimate.

“I-I’m glad I’m alive” Jason softly says, contemplating the yellow crescent moon that rests above their heads “I didn’t think I’d live enough for a moment like this”

A peaceful moment in a turbulent life. Some resemblance of belonging. Caring so deeply about a person he barely met.

Before meeting Alia, he could not imagine something like that. She rests her head on Jason's shoulder and after exhaling a large breath, she speaks:

“Me too” Alia says “I really do”

Chapter Text

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

LIMITED EDITION

While she is looking at the book in front of her, Alia reflects on her current life situation.

She wants to buy a new book for Jason –A few days ago, while the two of them were having dinner at their usual meeting place, a cold bench, during their free hour, Jason told her that he was an avid reader, especially interested in the classics of literature.

The store manager recommended a couple of books based on the data Alia had provided. She can’t say that she knows too much about Jason’s tastes. After all, they barely have a couple of weeks in touch, but already she can tell that the man is interested in old books and classic authors.

She doesn’t know him too well. That’s the truth.

The whole soulmate deal is so strange to her. A far-off concept. From the moment her timer was initially paused, Alia accepted that she would probably never experience the feeling of meeting her soulmate. Now everything has changed.

Things are different. It’s funny how everything could change from one second to the next. Literally.

Maybe it works differently for other people. Maybe they have more time to get their minds around the idea. The closer the countdown is to zero make people know when they would meet their soulmate. They could be ready.

For Alia it has been different: For years her timer had been paused at 5,032 : 59 : 59.

Five thousand thirty-two hours with fifty and new minutes with fifty-nine seconds. Two thousand eighty-four days and a half. A little over five years.

She memorized the number.

Too many nights looking for answers. Too many days of investigating all the possible causes and origins. She has that number tattooed on her –Literally and metaphorically.

For a long time, that defined her as an outcast. A foreigner to society. She had struggled to accept it, but when she did, it simply became part of another of the various aspects of her personality. Those parts that made Alia herself. It was a fact. Something she knew for sure.

She won’t questioned it the night she ran to save a wounded Red Hood. She did so because as a doctor, that is her whole deal.

She made an oath. A promise. To help the sick, the wounded. That’s why she done what she did that night, painfully unaware that she was going to meet him.

Curious, right? An act done from the inertia occasioned her to finally meet her soulmate. And her soulmate turned out to be a sort of vigilante (that’s what they are called in Gotham, right?) and a member of the most prestigious family in the country.

Many things had changed in Alia’s life over the past few months.

Good thing that his family, although a little strange, is very friendly. She hasn’t met all of his members yet, as she only visited the home once and under the false premise of reviewing the youngest member. Something she later discovered it was a trick to get her to talk with her soulmate.

Overall, based on the brief interactions she had with each of them, they are all pretty happy that she is Jay’s soulmate.

Jay. Oh my -She already has a nickname for him.

The man is charming. 6'3 tall and a broad wall of pure muscle.

That’s only his tough exterior. Jason is really full of charming traits. He deeply loves his family (especially little Domi, but who can blame him? He’s the favorite member of everyone) and has atypical passions from what one may expect, like reading.

So, Alia has no trouble getting off her regular route to work and getting into a couple of bookstores to buy Jason a gift.

It seems like a nice detail for a good man.

Jason visits her every day, no matter what time Alia is free. Even in the middle of the night in a city as dangerous as Gotham.

Also, Jason himself is a man of great details. In all her shifts, he has brought her something to eat and something to drink, varying the menu as he discovers her taste.

They had been a couple of months into that situation. It is lovely but a little bit odd. They see each other every day but always at night. Alia feels like an affair to her own soulmate.

As she pays the price of the book she picked, Alia thinks that they could plan new circumstances to see each other.

Akiko : Be safe! Let me know when u get to work pls

Alia smiles as she reads the message on her phone. She has her first friend in town!

Sure, her coworkers are friendly and always has very interesting conversations, but they are all twice her age and have little time to do activities outside of work.

Also, their work schedules are always sooooo disperse. It is truly difficult to make friends.

As she leaves the bookstore, she answers her friend’s message with reassuring words, indicating that she is just a few minutes away from work.

Akiko worries a bit too much for her. She makes sure she gets home safely and is always attend to tell Alia the best routes to avoid crime in the city. It’s cute in a way. Akiko reminds Alia of her younger sister. The affinity she feels for her grows every day.

The interior of her car receives her with its familiar cherry aroma. Just a few days ago Alia bought a new flavoring device, which performed its function excellently.

Driving gave her peace of mind, among so many new things happening in her life, she finds some comfort on the route from her apartment to the hospital. It is the quietest forty-five minutes of her day, even though she has to deal with a horrific traffic.

Usually, Alia plays her favorite songs and clears her mind of personal life problems and the patients for the day.

Well, usually.

Today is a different day.

As she drives, the annoying thought that Jason only visits her at night flutters her head. 

Was it normal for him? Or does he visit her at that time to hide her? Hide her from what? From whom?

God, Alia hasn’t even asked him if he had a partner.

Truth be told, she isn’t even sure what they are supposed to be –Yeah, soulmates, but that by itself is irrelevant. Many soulmates are simply platonic figures in each other’s lives, something more like very close friends than a formal couple.

They are nothing, and somehow, they were everything.

Alia is not foolish. She can feel the palpable tension that arose between them each time they are together. She felt it that first night, she felt it in the Mansion and she feels it every time she sees Jason sitting at their usual meeting place.

She doesn’t know much about him. That’s true. She wants to know him. Every part of him, every hidden aspect.

There is something about him that reminds her deeply of herself, but she can’t put her finger on what it was.

In the same way, she also feels that Jason can’t be more different from herself.

From what little he has told her; He came from a dysfunctional family, drug-addicted parents and he lived on the street before being adopted by Bruce, who was loving and valued various aspects of Jason’s personality but was equally an unforgiving father, distant and disciplined by time to time.

(And despite her great curiosity, Alia hasn’t asked Jason what Bruce thinks of his work as Red Hood, nor his collaboration with Batman and Nightwing. She guesses that Bruce would not be too happy about Batman’s work in his city).

Alia grew up in a large family, with adoring parents and unconditional siblings. She had the opportunity to study abroad and exploit her potential.

They are too different.

The imposing structure of Gotham’s Hospital greets her. It is a modern building with a style that feels rather gothic, like most buildings in the city. Upon entering, she greets her colleagues before entering her cubicle to put on her uniform.

According to her schedule of academic and professional activities, today she is to spend the whole morning in the operating room as an assistant surgeon.

She tries to the best of her ability to be presentable and fresh at all times, but her hair seems to make up her own mind. Alia takes advantage of the privacy while changing her clothes to fix her hair, which falls down her back, tangled and wild.

As she is heading to the operating room, reading the notes from the first case of the day, a male voice interrupts her.

"Good evening, Doctor" Thomas Elliot’s voice calls her. He waits for her, dressed in his own version of the surgical scrub "Ready for another thirty-six hours of service?"

Dr. Thomas Elliot, an internationally renowned neurosurgeon by far the most capable and intelligent professor Alia has ever had in her young career. He is a man of brown hair and narrow shoulders, who speaks about books, strategy and concentration methods almost daily.

Technically, the owner of the hospital and therefore the boss of both of them is Bruce Wayne, head of Wayne Enterprises and Jason's father but to any extent of the rule, Alia’s real boss is Dr. Elliot and, to her, his word is law.

"As ready as always, chief"

He smiles and Alia can’t tell for sure, but she could say that Dr. Elliot has a certain affinity for her.

“I brought you something”

That night, Jason visits her in his civilian clothes. A red shirt under a thick brown sweatshirt and dark pants. He looks very handsome. He is very handsome.

He is dressed much better for the cold weather of that unforgiving winter than Alia, her blue scrub and pink sweater. Beneath the artificial light of the lamp, Jason’s white streak and bright green eyes stand out as if they have lives of their own.

“A-Alia” Jason hesitates, and for Alia it doesn’t go unnoticed the blush that tints his cheeks red "You should n-not, uh, I mean" He cleared his throat "Why is it for?"

Alia hadn’t had a chance to get a proper gift wrap, so she simply opted for a plain bag, opaque enough to hide its contents.

“I just feel like it” Alia answers “Don’t be silly, Jaybird. I know you’re gonna like it”

She just wanted to have a nice gesture for him.

“I shouldn’t have told you about Roy, really” Jason jokes, and after taking a moment to detail the special edition of his favorite book, he adds “Thank you Lia, really”

What happened next is something that Alia had definitely not expected when she bought the book: Jason puts it aside on the bench and jumps on it to wrap her in a hug.

Jason Peter Todd is hugging her!

Honestly, Alia thought buying the book was a simple but nice gesture. With all the money that Jason’s family owned, he certainly has plenty of things she can’t afford, but a limited edition of Pride and Prejudice seemed like a nice detail for the man.

She is definitely not expecting Jason to hug her. Not so spontaneously. 

He has never hugged her before!

Jason himself had confessed to her that due to past traumas (which he did not detail and Alia did not ask), he is reluctant to physical contact.

But the cold weather powerfully strokes her the wrong way, and Jason and his brown jacket look much warmer than her.

In a fit of nonsense, Alia puts her hands under Jason’s shirt, who shakes at the temperature change. Her hands are so cold against the warm muscles of his back. Alia laughs at his reaction.

She can’t help but being touchy (In a light-hearted non sexual way) comes out so naturally when she is around him.

Despite her low temperature, and that he is definitely not accustomed to physical contact, Jason does not let her go. The hug extends for a much longer period than both of them originally expected.

“I’m thankful you’re here Lia” Jason whispers “I really am”

One of his hands caresses a few strands of her loose hair and the other one is holding her tightly.

“Me too Jay” Alia answers, her voice softly mumbles as she is speaking against the fabric of his shirt “, but I kinda wish we don’t only meet at night”

He takes a brief moment before separating from her. He holds her from the shoulders, carefully putting his fingers with not too much pressure over her.

“Why would you say so?” Jason asks “I come at night because that’s when you usually have some time. I don’t want to mess up your day”

“I know that, but, uh” Alia hesitates “I feel like you’re hiding me from someone”

Chapter Text

“What’s this?”

Jason has never planned a date before.

Date? Is that what this is? He doesn’t know if he should admit it out loud, but maybe it is a date. Should he have formally asked her outright then? Jason has no idea what a relationship with a soulmate entailed.

To many, having a romantic relationship with their soulmate results in something fruitful and long-lasting, but in Jason's family is very different.

Bruce has Selina but they always spend more time fighting each other than together.

Damian has Akiko, but between the responsibilities with Domi, the absolute fear they both have for commitment and the few moments they share exclusively together; they don't even define if they are a couple or just very close friends.

And then there are Tim and Stephanie, uh... They have each other. Even if they can barely stand each other’s humor.

The only member of his family who has a surprisingly stable and loving relationship is Dick. His relationship with Kor’i is about to turn five years. Hell, Dick even told Jason that he’s planning to propose to her soon. It is that serious.

Jason doesn’t have much experience with girls. Being dead took too much time off his schedule for proper social development. He doesn’t know how he is supposed to behave.

Sure, he dated some girls in the past but they all came so out of the blue that he never really got to plan anything for them. Mostly team mates during missions or briefly during his time in the League. It wasn’t the ideal place to plan dates or being overly affective either.

“You mentioned you’re new in town” Jason tells Alia “Well, this pottery classes are particularly famous here. I thought you would like to try it”

Alia’s pupils expands with excitement and she lets out a high-pitched scream from her mouth that makes Jason smile.

It’s a little funny to see her without her clinical uniform or her immaculate white robe. Without her work clothes, Alia no longer looks so solemn. She appears much fresher in that huge baby blue cardigan and her tiny white dress.

Under the faint sun light that the winter allows, Alia seems to shine on her own light. She is a picture worth seeing.

Jason doesn’t know why he likes to watch her so much. He really doesn’t.

Is it because he spent too much time picturing what she looked like? Ever since he was a child –When life got difficult, when he first became Robin, the night he died, the moment he came back to life. He always imagined her.

He could hear her in his mind, in his dreams –Her voice, her laugh, her cries. He couldn’t see her so he only got to imagine what she looked like.

The images in his head were far behind the truth. In his mind, she was taller, older, and didn’t have as much as a baby face as the real woman beside him had.

As he opens the studio door to let Alia in, Jason takes another moment to contemplate her.

Alia is so full of life. Explosive. Her big eyes wander everywhere with innocence, as she doesn’t know about all the scum bags that live on the city.

She is, by far, the smartest woman he knows. Something he really likes. Alia’s eyes are filled not only with innocence but also with curiosity, with insight. It’s a tender intelligence. One that is filled with empathy.

Jason believes she could read into anyone’s soul with a simple look. Even with no proper detective training, Alia is really good at guessing things correctly. Specially people.

“You learn a thing or two when you spend so much time around people” She confessed to him one night.

“Here are your materials” Carol, the woman he had reached to set the class, told to both of them.

Two conjoined tables with a spinning circle in the middle and some sort of wet clay and a bowl of water. There are some other utensils as well. Things Jason hasn’t seen before.

He’s kinda nervous. He watched a few Youtube videos the day before. Just to be prepare. Is it cheating? He told Alia he prepared something for them to try together but maybe his anxiety got the best of him.

He didn’t want to look a fool in front of Alia and acquiring knowledge seemed like a reasonable idea.

She told him that she would like to meet outside their habitual place. To do something different. Maybe she meant something like going out for coffee or having lunch together, because she was dressed so nice. Her outfit didn’t match a simple clay date.

He should have told her where they were going, right?

Jason panicked, okay? He put a lot of thinking about fun, non-dangerous activities to do in Gotham at broad light that would also be cool for Alia to do.

Pottery classes seemed like a fun activity to do. Something where she can use her hands and her creativity. They could also talk while doing so and it’s far less likely that a villain attacked a pottery studio than a crowded restaurant.

He should stop with the paranoia. Imagining attacks everywhere is not healthy. His therapist won't approve.

Anyway, where the fuck do you take a neurosurgeon to a date?

So it really is a date.

Does that make Alia his, uh, partner?

They have never kissed. Never been closer than that one night when Alia took care of his wound and her hands were all over him, doing her best to keep him safe.

He feels in debt, somehow. She didn’t even know him. Didn’t even have the time to acknowledge him as her soulmate and regardless she helped him. No questions asked, not medical equipment either. Just pure willpower.

What were they? He has to stop rambling. Focus on the present.

“I have never done something like this” Alia admits, brightly smiling, hands deep on the wet clay. “I didn’t even know Gotham had a place like this”

She’s following the teacher’s instruction as they are both lightly talking. Jason may had spent too much time inside his ramblings to follow their conversation. He only guesses by Carol’s hands movements forming the clay that they are supposed to assemble a mug.

“Me neither” Jason answers “I thought it would nice for us to try”

Alia has taken off her pretty cardigan and is already starting her own little creation. Jason can only look at her with shyness.

They are both sitting over the conjoined tables. She’s already showing off how far more capable her skillful hands are. Her own little mug has a discernible form in just a few moments.

Jason can barely listen to anything.

His own mind is rambling about anything and everything. Heart pounding hard against his chest. Anxiety. Something he has hardly learn how to control. It is draining.

“Wait, you’re going to ruin your bracelets”

He gets closer to her and with a simple gesture, Jason starts to take off Alia’s bracelets.

He takes way longer than he should. It is an obvious excuse to be closer to her. He really likes it, even when he isn’t that fan of physical contact. She irradiates a subtle body heat and smells like hospital soap and cologne. It’s comforting in some odd way.

Jason keeps the tinkling silver bracelets in his trouser pocket. He will return them later. Alia smiles at him and as soon as he releases her wrist, she gets back to work out her mug.

“Thank you, Jay” Alia says and that nickname makes Jason giggle. “What’s your best memory from childhood?”

Childhood. It is hard to not associate that word with harsh feelings. He knows Alia meant well; she does not have any idea of what he went through when he was younger. He doesn’t really know if he feels comfortable going around those memories either way.

“That’s pretty straightforward”

It is the only thing he says. Maybe a little too harsh for a well-intentioned Alia.

“I-I read it on a site” Alia stutters as an answer. "I searched like best conversation starters or something like that. Just to be prepared” She says “I was afraid I would blank out and freeze without saying a word”

Social anxiety seems like a trait they both share.

“Funny” Jason comments.

A moment of reflection later, trying as hard as he could to put his therapist’s advice to use, he adds:

“Uh, when I was younger, my dad stayed home from work because I got the flu or something and he wanted to take care of me so we stayed the whole night together watching movies” He explains “I really enjoyed it. Dad rarely took breaks”

It’s a simple memory, but it holds a special place in Jason’s heart. He would have been about 9 or 10 years old at the time, freshly new in the Mansion and only a few nights into the whole Robin deal, but staying that night was the first time Bruce ever felt like family.

“That’s really sweet” Alia says “I can tell your dad really cares for you”

“Yeah” Jason answers “I suppose he does”

Jason can’t deny or tell it otherwise. After all he had to live, it is hard to come to terms with whatever Bruce feels for him.

If he cares about Jason or not, it seems to depend on his mood for the day.

“I grew on a farm” Alia interrupts his daydreaming. “Until I was like 15”

“What? No way!”

A farm? Jason hadn’t been to many farms -Only the Kent’s and twice in his life. It felt like a really peaceful lifestyle, so distant from the ever-active Alia and her life in the city.

“Yeah, I know I don’t look the part” Alia says “, but my family’s business has always been cattle. I am not a big fan of it thought”

He definitely can’t picture sweet darling Alia as a farm girl. She always seemed so magnanimous and put together. It’s hard to imagine her covered in sweat and mud, taking care of animals instead of people.

“Don’t tell Damian” Jason jokes “He’s vegetarian and also has a pet cow he absolutely adores” They both laugh “Akiko loves to braid its hair”

They keep talking. That afternoon, Jason learned a lot more about his soulmate: She has two brothers and a sister. Her parents met at college. One of her aunts wanted her to become an English teacher. She fell off a horse when she was eleven and broke her arm.

He also tells her many things: How he met Bruce (without explaining it wasn’t exactly Bruce but Batman), that first time he met Alfred and how Dick came visiting every month to meet with them.

He tells her about the worst books he has read in his life and the moment he tried to intimidate Tim. The board games they all play on some nights. How he always teamed up with Cass, Duke and Steph as they are the best playing team because of their talents combined worked really alike.

“I thought my family was big” Alia says “But yours is huge!”

Coming out of the store, their pottery lesson is finished. Now, they both brought some new cups made by themselves.

Alia has painted hers white with tiny yellow flowers, while Jason has drawn a pattern of golden stars in a sort of blue gradient.

It is a somewhat abstract concept but pleasing to the eye, he would say.

“Thank you for bringing me here though” Alia says “It’s nice to get to know new places”

They signed and exchanged the cups as a souvenir of their first trip. Trip? It is a date!

He should have asked her out officially.

“We should do it often then” Jason says “I’ll take you home. What time are you gonna start your shift today?”

Usually, Jason drives his motorcycle. But as winter is ever-more intense and he’s horrified to even think of the bike rolling through the snow with Alia on it. So he had chosen to drive a car that Bruce gifted him long ago.

MAYBE he was growing up too paranoid.

“I have to be there at seven” Alia answers “I still have time to get home to sleep and prepare my food”

“Let me take you to work” Jason says “I can also pick you up tomorrow. I don’t like that you drive when you’re barely sleeping”

Chapter Text

“Dr. Gomez”

“Mr. Pennyworth?” Alia’s voice sticks from the other side of the phone “I mean —Hello! Hey!”

It is a lovely November morning when Alfred Pennyworth calls Alia Gomez to look up for help. Early birds are starting to sing their first harmonies for the day and the lazy winter sun starts to arise in the sky.

“I apologize if it’s a little early in the morning” Alfred says “, but I am afraid Master Todd is not feeling quite himself this morning.”

Beside him, Alfred can hear Jason snort with disgust but the butler does not care enough to give any of his tantrums any more attention than he already has.

Alfred Pennyworth is used to them, after all, Jason is way too alike Bruce himself.

“Non sense. I’m just coming off a shift.” The young doctor replies “I am as fresh as it gets” She says, but her voice sounds far away from that. “, you said Jason is not feeling well? He told me he would be picking me out from work”

It is that kind of masking voice that Alfred is precisely trained to identify.

“Yes” Alfred answers “That is what I am afraid of. He has been trying to stand up for the last half hour but he cannot get up on his own feet” He says “I think it has something to do with his leg but he has not allowed me or anyone in the family to check it out”

Alfred found it particularly unusual that Jason had allowed them to care of him without restrictions the first few days. That boy is usually reluctant to receive help whenever he received any injury. He always argues that, no matter what, he is never completely healed.

 Ever since he came back, Jason suffered from chronic pain. Aches that never go away. Not completely. His very body always hurt, even with no physical evidence of any damage.

Perhaps it is a reminder from all the things he had been through before.

Alfred had been relieved to be able to care of Jason the first few days –He seemed to have improved greatly. Jason had barely been in any discomfort the last few days, his wound almost completely healed.

That was until he started complaining of pain a couple of nights ago and decided to ignore Alfred's best advice to rest and not go on patrol just for a few nights. No. Impossible.

“He is insisting he has to pick you up”.

Alfred has been especially careful to keep an eye on the wound on young Jason's leg. It had been a deep wound. If it hadn't been for a margin of just a few centimeters, the cut would have affected his sciatic nerve and God forbid, it would have irreparably affected his walking.

“Non sense” Alia repeats suddenly “Tell him I am going to check on him”

Alfred takes a moment to look over his shoulder and glance at young Todd, who lays bedridden, still paralyzed by pain but too proud to admit that he needs help. Much less to ask for it on his own.

“That would be really appreciated, Dr. Gomez”

“You can call me Alia, Mr. Pennyworth” She says “I am on my way, okay? I’ll be there as soon as I can”

As soon as Alfred puts the phone down, the whining voice of his grandson erupts:

“I didn’t think you were going to accuse me for real” Jason complains “You really call her”

If Alfred hadn't been so used to dealing with the stubborn character of any and every Wayne –Which was, truth be told, very similar to his own– he would have found it annoying.

“You are not feeling well, Master Todd” Alfred says “I am simply looking out for your best interest”

…

Alia Gomez is such an interesting woman.

Coming into the manor with a pink sweater and white trouser, she looks afar from what doctors used to wear back in the day when Alfred was younger.

She has something in her that reminded Alfred of Sir Wayne himself. When Thomas was younger and they were just two best buddies working along building their careers.

He would have been really fond of his grandson’s soulmate.

“Good evening, doctor” Bruce saluted her.

As soon as he had cut off communication with the young doctor, Alfred had proceeded to inform master Bruce on the news on Jason’s health.

Bruce had not hesitated to get to the mansion to analyze the situation himself. Lately, he has been especially overprotective of Jason's state.

“Please, call me Alia” The young woman says “I’m happy to see you both again. How have you been?”

She is so clearly not a Gothamite than Bruce and Alfred can’t help themselves but worry.

How long would it take to break her? A bad day maybe? She is a doctor after all, and in Gotham, that means she is an easy target for madness.

Would she be prepared to be involved in the life of a vigilante? 

Fate seems to think she is.

“It’s been great so far” Bruce says playfully. “I have to personally apologize for our last meeting. I would have liked to be present during Dominicus' consultation.”

They are walking towards Jason’s old room, the one he rarely stays more than a few days at a time.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Wayne. You’re a busy person”

Alia is nonchalant and smiling until she sees Jason.

 As soon as she sees  her own soulmate laying on his bed, profusely sweating and softly whining, her facial expression changes.

“Jason” She says with a deeper voice. Eyebrows furrowed, she hurries to approach the man “What the hell are you on? Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this bad?”

She sits next to the man and her demeanor changes like day and night.

Left far behind is that cheerful Alia that entered the Mansion just a few minutes ago, as now she is all seriousness and strict hands.

It is similar to watch Bruce merged into Batman. Two personalities, two different people.

The scene is curious to witness. Alia, a small, thin woman, with an angry aura that overshadows a pitiful Jason, who watches her with lamb eyes, pleading for her mercy.

“I didn’t want to make you worry” Jason says “You told me you had a lot of patients this week”

The woman takes a deep breath and holds the bridge of her nose with her fingers. She snorts, almost as if she can't believe what her ears are hearing.

“This has been going on for days?”

“It has been” Bruce answers before Jason has any chance to do it “Six days. But it wasn’t as bad as today. He can’t stand on his own without feeling excruciating pain”

From the foot of his bed, the oldest Wayne watches as his son sends him a murderous look.

“Bruce” Jason severs “I can tell my own symptoms. Thank you”

Alia ignores the men around her and began to inspect her soulmate. She asks Jason a handful of questions about his condition, the source and irradiation of the pain, and what medication he has taken on the last week.

With practical medical skill, the woman asks young Jason to perform a series of simple movements: Bend, extend, squeeze.

At the end of the consultation, she examines him silently.

“I am not a physical therapist nor a traumatologist” Alia tells the three men “, but I would say your scar looks fine. No infection but I see a lot of inflammation. I think your muscle has been stretched far too much and your tendon is still affected”

The relief in the room is almost palpable. Alfred and Bruce had feared that it was a serious complication that would permanently affect their boy.

“So, I just have to get some rest and I’ll be fine by tomorrow morning”’

Jason wants to downplay the situation. It is clear he doesn’t want to feel like a child under adult observation no more.

“Absolutely not” Alia cuts “If you put that leg under any more tension you could tear the muscle” She explains “You have to chill out a bit”

There is the problem. Alfred knows Master Todd way too much and that boy is not letting it happen without putting on a fight.

To be honest, Alfred is not even sure any of the Waynes knew what the words “chill out a bit” mean.

“That is so not going to happen” Jason says.

“That is absolutely what is going to happen” Bruce adds.

Father and son exchanges challenging glances. Alfred knows them both like the back of his hand. He is aware that neither of them intends to give up.

“It would be nice for you to try to go for a light swim” Alia suggests, cutting up the tense situation “It helps to decompress the tension forming around the area. I go to this pool near downtown I could talk to them and w-”

“Do you know how to do the exercises?” Bruce cuts her off.

The girl silently studies him for a moment. Her eyebrows cannot go further up on her head. She seems as surprised by the interruption of her monologue as she is by the suggestion itself.

“I took a few rehab classes in college but I am no expert”

Bruce smirks with satisfaction.

“We have a lake in the backyard” Bruce tells Alia “I imagine it can be just as useful.”

It takes a whole hour to convince Jason Todd to go swimming to the lake.

They had to had Alia explained in great detail, at the best of her capacities, the perks of that kind of activity for him. They had to reason with him about how just a painkiller and some stretching wouldn’t help in his situation. They had to discuss it over tea and Alfred’s special cookies for him to finally agreed to try it.

Bruce helps to carry him down the stairs, much to Jason’s disliking.

As the four of them approach the lake, the sun is in its maximum altitude. Its warm wraps them lightly, after all it is still winter.

“It’s going to be really cold” Jason complains.

He is leaning his full weight on Bruce, which is almost comical since they are the same size and build. Side by side, the resemblance is soo obvious to Alfred and Alia.

“Cold is good for inflammation” Alia says.

Bruce had dragged him out of bed barefoot and shirtless. He argued that it was not a good idea to go into the lake with so many clothes on —The water would make them heavier and could cause difficulties for his already tired body.

“I don’t wanna go, Lia” Jason pleads. He is almost begging the girl “I’m really not a good swimmer”

Jason wishes to not be such a baby in that moment. But the truth is that he has not even been anywhere near the lake for too many years.

The sole idea of ​​being in such a large body of water frightens him —It wakes up memories of a past life, nightmares from which he thought he had already escaped.

“Jason” Alia whispers near his ears “It’s just cold water and only for a few minutes.”

He really wishes he didn’t have so many darks memories. He really wishes to be mentally sane. In that moment, the only thing Jason really wants is to be completely normal.

What grown up man is afraid of water?

Then again, his own crystalline reflection makes him shiver.

“Don’t make me do it”

Bruce holds him down. His expression as solemn as ever. Jason can feel his gaze judging him as panic rises inside him. Bruce doesn’t say anything, neither does Alfred, who is standing a few steps behind them, but Jason can tell they are judging him for being a coward.

“You’re going to feel so much better after you do it”

He knows Alia is right. He consciously believes her —That girl, his girl, is extremely smart. Well-read in medical science like few people are.

Even when she says that physical rehabilitation is not her strong suit, Jason knows she is right. He just can’t.

“Lia” Jason begs “I don’t wanna go alone” He admits “Please don’t make me do it”

The woman takes a moment to seemingly reflect. Jason worries she is going to start asking him all sort of questions he doesn't feel quite ready to answer. He doesn't have any idea how to explain a lot of things to her. From his life, from his past even from himself.

With no previous warning Alia suddenly takes off her fluffy sweater, revealing a plain shirt with little protection to the harsh weather. Her shoes and socks follows, letting her feet with crooked toes free to the icy winds.

Such a weird feet, Jason thinks to himself.

“I’m going with you” Alia says “, down in the water. I’m a very good swimmer. You won’t drown” she adds “I promise”

As the words lingered over Jason’s mind, his heart races against his chest, running up to his neck, his tongue, his brain. The rapid pulse seems to be infecting each one of his organs.

Alia takes the first step and gets into the water. A shiver runs through her body but her decisive expression doesn’t change a bit. She turns her back and extends her hand to him.

Water is not his favorite thing in the world. Not after the resurrection. The water from the Lazarus pit was electrifying. It went under his skin and burned everything from his old life with no mercy. It boiled his blood, undo his memories, made him crazy.

Or was he already crazy before it?

He takes a shy step on her direction. The coldness of the water already wrapping around his ankles. It makes him flinch but he has promised to get better. Whatever it takes. He has to do it for himself but especially for her.

Alia is just way too brave, too determinate for Jason to cower.

He has promised himself he is going to get better. He will give himself a chance to experience nice things. Maybe he deserves them.

Alia is the prime example of it. He has to have done something really good to have her as his soulmate, attached by the hip in almost every chance they have.

Holding her hand feels like everything. As he touches her skin, the world around them freezes.

“How do you feel?”

Jason contemplates the woman in front of him as they walk deeper into the lake. How can he explain to her that he feels everything? Every single water drop, every single one of the textures under his feet, every wind rush around his cheeks.

Everything, he thinks as he watches her. He clutches into her hand stronger.

“I’m okay”

Alia’s hair is half submerged in the water and her clothes are completed wetted, as so are Jason’s.

“It’s just gonna be a moment” Alia says “Try moving your leg up and down. Don’t bend your knees yet”

It is funny how the water makes the bodyweight feel so light. As he is doing the exercises explained to him, Alia is holding him by both hands, stabilizing him as his legs doesn’t touch the muddy lake floor.

“Great. How does it feel?”

The water is unstoppable but it isn't oppressive. It doesn't press down on Jason's chest in a rush. It is cold, yes, but it also makes him feel very light.

It isn’t terrible.

“It’s good”

Alia smirks and holds his hands tightly. His pain decreases considerably. Maybe it is the serotonin on his brain that acts like a sedative.

“Now bend your knees” She says and he obeys. “Great! I know it feels a little uncomfortable but as soon as we finish you’re going to feel so much better” He just nods at her words “Do you think you could swim a little?”

When he had first moved into the mansion, he and Bruce used to go swimming for a few afternoons during school break. It was a great time for both of them. Jason was not an excellent swimmer by any means, but they had a lot of fun. They used to eat Alfred’s sandwiches and cold tea. One of Jason's favorites.

That very idea is now unthinkable to him.

“Alia I-I don’t, uh” He stutters. His voice trembles “I don’t think I can”

Alia is a smart woman. She knows something else is tormenting him. As she scans him with her big blue eyes, Jason knows for sure she suspects there is something more scaring to him than just cold water.

She doesn’t ask about it though.

“It’s okay then” She simply says. She doesn’t look at him with curiosity, nor is she mad “Let’s stay a few minutes more here, alright? Just enough that you spend about five minutes on the water. You’ll have the best results with that amount of time”

She holds so much warm on her eyes. It is intoxicating. Jason can stay a few more minutes more if that means getting to know what her gaze hides. Is she a mermaid? He stupidly asks himself

She proceeds to smile as brightly as she always does when she wants to cheer people up.

“You love to swim” Jason shyly brings out to light, looking for a way to distract his mind from racing around. “You are a natural”

Jason himself has driven her to some of her swim lessons and once he stayed long enough to watch her spent the whole hour just swimming an Olympic pool in different styles. She was really tired at the end, barely able to stand on her own, but she was so happy. One of the biggest smile Jason had seen on her face.

When he drove her home, she had kissed him in the cheek briefly when they were saying goodbye, and profusely thanked him for staying with her during that late night class.

Jason spent the whole drive back home blushing because of that innocent kiss.

“I do” Alia interrupts his memories “I started swimming at the same time I started med school” She explains “It helped me with the stress”

That is something Jason really likes about her: She is really talkative, seems to have no problems telling him all sort of stories about her life and her dreams and her goals. She seems to always be welcoming him to get to know her better.

For the next few minutes, Alia tells him all about the technicities of swimming practices, and how it has helped her to progressively increasing the time she can hold her breath under the water to almost six minutes.

By the time she finishes with her stories, Jason feels much calmer.

“Let’s go back inside”

Bruce and Alfred are waiting for them on the shore. Fuck. Jason completely forgot they even were there.

With some luck, they wouldn't have been able to hear his mini panic attack in the water.

Obviously, they had heard them, but Jason prefers to pretend they hadn't.

“I’m going to prepare a bath for Dr. Gomez” Alfred simply says and then turns around to Alia “Master Bruce suggested to bring clothing for you and it has already been arranged. We hope it is your size and liking, Doctor”

While it is true that Bruce tends to solve most matters that way —Doing things in advance before asking those involved. Jason is surprised at how quickly he has taken action.

“Oh” Alia says “Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth. I appreciate it. Really”

“It’s the least we could do, Doctor”

The icy wind only makes their condition worse. They both stood shaking on the shore of the lake in front of the two old men in suits. It is a scene extracted from a comic panel.

Alia is picking up her sweater from the ground and putting on her socks while Jason tries to not be too obvious on his shivering.

“Please, call me Alia” She almost begs “When you call me doctor it makes me feel like I’m at work.”

“Good thing Alia” Bruce says “You both should take a bath and change into dry clothes before catching a cold”

“I’m almost a hundred percent sure that’s not how it works, B” Jason says

The three of them smiles and Jason feels a warm feeling growing inside him.

It is good to be back home.

Chapter Text

Alia Gomez is granted a room on Wayne’s Manor.

She comes out of the bathroom after a well-deserved shower where she bathed herself with warm water for way longer than she had first intended to. She so desperately needed that time alone to relax.

Completely alone in a luxurious bathroom full of eccentricities, Alia lets herself relax on the bathtub to help her sore muscles decompress. All the fatigue she repressed to be able to get to Jason's home and take care of him is being released as she almost falls asleep while on the tub.

Had it been a little dangerous? Yeah, but she had just come out of a very hard shift. It was easy to get lost on track of time. She just dealt with lots of old cases needing a follow up the previous night.

It seems that in Gotham was really usual for people to get into accidents that compromised their skull and nerves. She couldn't imagine having that many cases anywhere else but there.

She also had to take a test at midnight after coming off a particularly challenging surgery. Her main tutor, Dr. Elliot had been absolutely ruthless with her.

It is to her best interest, she’d like to think, but only God knows how many more thirty-six hours shifts she can handle before breaking out.

Alia loves her job, undoubtedly. It’s her purpose. Helping people recover is the closest she knows to peace of mind, but sometimes it’s also too much to handle. The disjunctive is hilarious, but true. She just has to survive those few years of residency before slowing down.

The clothes brought to her are really particular. It’s definitely Bruce Wayne’s choice: A burgundy button-down blouse and black straight-leg pants with gold appliqués matching the top. The fabric feels richer than any other Alia has felt before.

She isn't particularly a fan of dark colors just because she feels that lighter tones make her skin look more vibrant, but the clothes are such a kind gesture from Jason's father. Perhaps his own way to thank her for convincing his son to receive care.

It isn't unusual. Many patients give her a lot of things other than money as some sort of “payment”: Plates of warm homemade food, drawings. Some even offered her services like hairdressing or babysitting in exchange for consultations.

The clothes they had chosen for her are fortunately her size, but the black shoes that match the outfit are a little tight on her. It isn't something she isn't used to. Alia has had big feet all her life and it has always been a nightmare to find the perfect pair for her.

As Alia sits on the king bed, she tries to figure out a way to fold her soaked clothes to storage them and bring them back home, her grip loosening as her eyelids grow heavier over her pupils.

She focuses on making herself ready to be able to get to home in time to have a good quality twenty-hours-long sleep at her very own comfortable mattress. While submerge on her own thoughts of sleeping fantasies, Alia gets distracted by an interruption.

“Hey” Jason’s voice comes from the other side of the door “Can I come in?”

Alia walks over to open the door, quickly realizing that she had forgotten to lock it while she changed clothes a few moments before.

“Hi Jay”

Outside the room, Jason is waiting for her with a shy smile. He looks… good. Extremely good. Like he just got out of the shower with his hair still wet.

His white strand mixes in with his darker hairs in a way that Alia finds way too tempting for her to be thinking those kind of thoughts about only her friend on the city.

“I wanted to thank you” Jason says “That thing we did at the lake really helped with my leg”

With his clothes on and standing on that playful way, it’s hard to imagine the sheer amount of scars her soulmate has.

Alia noticed them as soon as she entered his room earlier in the day and there was one that had caught her attention deeply: A huge Y that ran across his chest and down his abdomen. It was the biggest one, yet he has multiple scars all over his body.

Like any respectable doctor, she followed the medical code. She saw those Jason’s scars when examining him for a diagnosis, and therefore, they are absolutely confidential and could not be discussed outside of consultation. She would not mention anything about them until he feels comfortable explaining them to her.

“It’s no problem. Every time you need it” Alia answers “Just don’t do it again, okay?”

Jason looks at her with a certain amount of shame in his eyes. Like he does understand the concern Alia felt when she answered Alfred's call.

“If you need my help, tell me” Alia says “Your pain is my pain. You know it”

That is truth. The stronger the connection between soulmates grew, the stronger the sensations they share were.

They have started to develop some sort of shared sensations, a hive mind even. One thought track to the other’s mind. A feeling intertwines with another. It starts to become harder to tell things apart.

Alia had felt some discomfort earlier in the day, but she thought it was because of her own tiredness. Now she is absolutely certain it was because Jason’s wound was wreaked. The pain matches the same zones, same intensity even.

Alia doesn’t know if that scares or excites her.

“I’ll try”

Jason shares an apologetic smile with her and Alia feels like her defenses are falling down faster than she is willing to admit.

They both linger at the door frame for a bit. Unsure on what is the next step on the conversation.  Are they moving too fast? They have known each other for a little over four months now, seeing each other almost daily.

What is it too fast? They haven't got any closer than their usual alone moments enjoying dinner and their pottery lessons every Thursday afternoon. They know a lot of things about each other, yeah, like any pair of new friends. Nothing overly personal.

Aside from that past moment on the lake that felt pretty personal. Intimate. Although she can’t tell for sure what it meant to Jason.

Alia? She knows she is falling deep for him, much to her own dismay. When was the last time she had a boyfriend? A long, long time ago. Her obsessive personality isn’t truly popular amongst men. Her way of prioritize goals over people tend to push people away. She isn’t the best at relationships, to be honest.

But she is trying her best with Jason. She has been keeping notes on him, his likes and dislikes. She has a daily alarm set to remind herself to text him. It all comes natural to her.

Has she already fallen in love with him? The mere thought sounds funny to her. Jason has never tried to be utterly romantic. He just behaves like any good soulmate would: Showing her the way around the city, taking her to cool places and letting her spend time with his family. Those could be pretty good signs of a good friend or a romantic partner.

Both thoughts make Alia thrilled.

“Lia! Oh my-” Jason exclaims and he walks towards the master bed in the room, lightly pushing her to the side “Alfred hates when something stains the sheets”

Jason enters the room with his hands over his face as if he is witnessing one of the most terrible events possible. The bed is completely ruined by the dripping wet clothes. Alia curses herself mentally. How could she not notice? Lack of sleep is truly a dangerous thing.

When Jason reaches the bed, he sits down near the pile of wet clothes she left behind to open the door and held them in his hands, lifting them up to show the water stain to Alia.

“Shit” Alia mutters “I didn’t think about that. I’m sorry”

Jason nods his head and says something under his breath when he approaches a piece of furniture and takes out a set of navy-blue sheets. Her brain feels fuzzy as the exhaustion grows bigger and she herself is starting to feel kind of dizzy.

“Let me change them” He says “We don’t want to make Alfred pissed, trust me”

He changes those sheets faster than Alia would expect. He has some real ability to fold sheets so neatly in so little time. She would have like to help him, but she can only stand still while watching him. Her eyelids shake compulsively and she clings to the wall to not fall on her feet.

“Alia?” Jason asks suddenly “Are you okay?”

The room is spinning around her. Alia knows it wasn’t a good signal. It has happened to her before but it isn’t such a big deal though. Judging by Jason’s expression, she may look worse than she feels.

“I’m tired. That’s all” Alia answers “I haven’t sleep in the last, well, like forty hours”

Jason sighs deeply and stands up in her direction. He runs a hand through his hair desperately. He looks… well, pissed, but also way too hot for Alia to have any sort of decent thoughts.

“You really are out of your mind” Jason tells her “Do you know how dangerous the lack of sleep is? You’re going to sleep. Now”

From the pile of sheets he pulled out to change the bed, Jason takes a thick blanket and places it on Alia's hands. In any other occasion, Alia might have argued with him. She would have told him that she is perfectly able to manage her own sleep schedule. She doesn’t need no watchman.

Right now? She is too exhausted to do anything but obey him.

“Don’t let me alone” Alia asks him “I’m gonna die ashamed if Alfred or your dad enters the room with me sleeping”

To be fair, she feels weird thinking about sleeping alone in a bed on a mansion with people she barely knows. Imagining someone entering the bedroom while she’s asleep makes her feels a sudden shyness she does not want to acknowledge.

Alia is a very bad sleeper, to be honest. She always falls asleep so deep that she often ends up looking like a mess with frizzy hair and saliva over the pillows. It isn't that serious but it makes a good excuse to ask Jason to stay with her. She wants him there for a little longer.

Blanket in hand and dismissing her own worries, she lays down on the newly changed bed. As soon as Alia touches the soft fabric of the bed, she takes the chance to wrap herself in the comfortable blanket that Jason gave her.

From her comfortable position, she looks at the boy with sleepy eyes, waiting for an answer.

“They never get inside without knocking” Jason says, but Alia knows he usually can’t resist her pleading eyes “Fine, I’ll stay with you. But only until you fall asleep”

He sighs and then lays down beside her, completely still, his back pressed against the quilt. They are side to side in the bed. Shoulder to shoulder, they both contemplate the ceiling.

“It’s the first time in a while I’ve been in the house for more than two days” Jason tells her out of the blue. “I usually only come when Dick or Damian are here, and even then, I only stay for the evening”

Jason. The usually quiet and kept together Jason is opening up about his feelings! Alia is tired but she knows this kind of opportunity is valuable. It is a good chance to get to know her soulmate in a deeper way.

“They look happy to have you here” Alia mumbles “Alfred was really worried over the phone”

Jason turns his head to look at her for a second, longing. His electric green eyes glow in the dim light.

“I just miss my brothers” Jason confesses “This house is way too big without them. I don’t like it”

So that’s how it really is.

Alia hasn’t met all of Jason’s siblings, but she guessed they weren’t that close to each other anyway. He hadn't told her much about them in those last months. She is probably wrong about her conjunctions.

“I know it’s weird” Alia answers “I can’t get use to how silent my apartment is and I’ve living on my own for like six years now.”

Alia remembers her own childhood memories: It was really fun to grow up with many siblings.

At the farm, they used to have a blast together running around with the chickens and bathing their horses. They obviously had their silly fights, and with time, they had grown a bit apart, as everyone is busy making their own paths for themselves.

“Yeah, it’s hard to live without them. Especially without Damian” He says “I used to take care of him when we were younger. Back in the day, before he came to the Manor, we lived together in a, uh, complicated place”

Alia hasn’t really interacted that much with Damian Wayne. To be honest, she is way closer with Akiko, his soulmate, and even then, they don't talk that much.

As far as she can tell, Damian isn’t a boy very receptive to human sensibilities.

It feels odd to think about a time where Jason didn’t lived with Bruce Wayne. If she remembers correctly, Jason was adopted when he was about eight years old as he told her. He is almost twelve years older than Damian. So either Alia’s math isn’t mathing or there is something else to the story.

“Was it with Damian’s mother?”

No one has mentioned anything about Damian's mother and given that he’s Bruce's only biological child as far as Alia is aware. Not even Akiko, who is usually always looking for a variety of topics to talk about, has said a single word about that topic.

Plus, Bruce Wayne hasn't had an official, public partner in a long, long time. Alia looked him up on the internet -Along with many other things about the Wayne family. Google is a good resource to answer her most intrepid questions about such a popular family.

Getting involved with one of the most important families in the country is just something that doesn't happened every day and Alia is a very curious woman!

“Clever little lady” Jason jokes, imitating Alfred's voice “But, uh, yeah. Talia’s was like a mentor to me back then. I was really lost. I didn’t have anything but them.”

“What about Bruce?” Alia dares to ask “Were you two strained?”

She doesn't want to overstep his boundaries; however, she can't deny the nagging need to know every detail of the story in order to fit the pieces of her mental puzzle together.

“He thought he lost me, hell, he didn’t even know by that time that Damian existed” Jason vaguely explains “I took care of Damian when we were in the League. He is my little brother in every way it matters. It’s so strange now that he’s all grown up and doesn’t need me anymore”

League?

The only league Alia knows about is the Justice League and being involved with them is far too strange, even for Jason and his family, who are very, very strange.

“The League has something to do with your job, right?” Alia asks, suddenly brave enough to know more about her usually not-that-talkative soulmate. "Is it something Damian also does? Like some sort of fighting club? Bruce knows about this?”

Jason watches her for a few instants. He seems like he’s biting his own tongue to hold himself from saying more. Maybe she shouldn't have let her curiosity got the best of her. After all, he rarely gets into that much detail about his past for a reason.

“Yeah” He simply answers “He knows about that”

Alia feared that she has made a mistake by asking too many questions. Maybe she had been way too confident thinking that she could know everything about Jason at once without making him uncomfortable.

She couldn't imagine how Bruce Wayne feels about his sons being involved in such dangerous activities. He surely is very against it. He is a philanthropist after all.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped” Alia whispers. “Sorry, Jay”

Her eyelids are heavier and she starts to feel the developing of one of those brutal headaches she develops when the lack of sleep is chronical.

“Don’t worry about it, Lia” Jason answers “I wanna you everything but it’s, uh, complicated”

Alia nods and in a burst of tremendous courage, she covers Jason's hands, that rest crossed over his stomach, with her own hand.

Jason watches the gesture for a moment, and then, he timidly begins to trace circles on the tender flesh of Alia's hand.

“You should go to sleep already.” Jason mutters “You’re falling sleep anyway”

Alia can't contradict him. She doesn't have the strength to do so. Her eyelids can’t stay open for much longer. Her head aches, and the feeling of having overstepped his boundaries fills her chest.

Alia falls asleep holding Jason’s hand.

…

She wakes up startled, not knowing exactly what provoked her to be so alert.

The room is dark. The lights are off and the curtains are closed. The tiny halo of sunlight that would have told her the time earlier is no longer perceptible.

Jason’s body heat is overwhelming, especially when he is truly determined to have her wrapped in his arms with no personal space left between them. It is a pleasant contrast to the freezing weather that overshadows the room. He even put one of his legs over her, like he never intended to let her go.

“Jay” Alia calls him “Jason”

“What munchkin?” Jason mutters sleepily.

He doesn’t even open his eyes. A headache is killing her. She feels drunk. It is probably going to be one of those horrible migraine episodes she has suffer in some time.

“It’s late.” She whispers “I have to go home”

She is speaking out of inertia, really. Her sense of responsibility is perhaps overly powerful. Why does she have to go home? No one is waiting for her there but Alia feels a deep urge to return to her lonely apartment.

Right now, that urge is hard to meet because having Jason wrap his body around her was so, so pleasant.

“When does your shift starts?”

Jason's sleepy voice is deeper and raspier than his normal one. His tone holds a hint of annoyance and a clear desire to go back to sleep as soon as possible. It awakes something inside Alia’s body. A soft warm emerges from deep inside her belly.

“I’m off for today” Alia manages to say “I will have my next shift in two days.” 

“Good” Jason answers, still half asleep. His arms wrap her tighter before continuing “Then you can stay here. Go back to sleep. I’ll take you home tomorrow”

Alia blushes but she is too tired to pretend she doesn’t love the idea to keep going with the physical touch. Those words are enough to make Alia allow herself to rest in complete peace for the first time since she moved to Gotham.

She can rest. Truly rest. A peaceful sleep without worrying about thefts or rapists or loony people getting into her room when she lets her guard down. Alia's ever-racing thoughts finally can go silent.

She rests on his arms, even when she has never been a huge fan of sharing a bed with anyone. Alia curls on Jason’s arms and lets her breath go, closing her eyelids to peacefully go back to sleep. This time, she chooses to hug Jason back.

Maybe she already trusts him a lot more she is willing to admit.

Chapter Text

“A mechanic?”

“Yes mom” Alia laughs “Uh, something like that. He’s really into modifications with his new bike”

Her family's whispers answers her words on the other side of the call as Alia's heart fills with warmth. It is a Wednesday night, one of her few days off, and she is taken advantage of her free time to call home.

She still has a couple of months left to finish her first year of residency, and she is doing her best to keep in touch with all her family members.

With her siblings it is much easier because they have a group chat where they always, and her brother Leonard usually takes the time to share memes with her on a daily basis. Her sister, Lettie, she doesn't mind that Alia forgets to reply for days, and James Jr. Has his own fast-paced life, so he contributes to the conversations whenever he can.

But her ma and pa? They hardly like phone calls as they spend the majority of their time outside on the fields.

They are really enjoying being empty nesters after raising four kids for so long.

“Jason should come over” Pa’s voice says through the speaker “He and his family. Bring them to thanksgiving”

Alia adores her family. They love multitudes and big party reunions and anything and everything that involves large groups of people getting together.

Especially all those events that involve to get soulmates together.

Alia’s parents are soulmates. They had known each other since kindergarten. Actually, their timers were set to go off after like only four years of live, and with all their ups and downs, they had been pretty happy together. Raising a big family and making a successful business out of their shared passion.

“It’s a pretty large family” Alia replies “I feel it’s gonna be rather complicated to bring them all the way to the farm”

She knows her parents will be delighted to the idea of her soulmate having a big family too. They deeply valued family over anything else but they can’t really imagine how truly large Jason’s family is.

 Alia knows that as soon as they all met in person, they are going to welcome the Wayne’s as their own.

“They could always go to Central City” Ma’s voice says. “Our house in the city is big enough for all of them I think” She adds “How many of them are?”

Hard question. Alia thinks of Jason’s found family. There are too many of them. There is Alfred, and then Bruce, and also his older brother Dick and the youngest Tim and Damian, alongside with Cassandra and Stephanie and the recently added Duke.

She hasn’t meet all of them in person. She only knows their faces by the pictures Jason had shown her from his phone or some newspapers articles.

“Well, it’s complicated” Alia says “I can invite them all but they are like eight siblings and his dad and his butler, uh, well, he’s more like his grandpa really. There is also a baby brother that’s barely two”

Alia remembers the last time she went to the Manor. After her little sleepover with Jason, Alfred invited her to have some tea together. They were also joined by Dominicus and Akiko who came along after her pilot classes. It was a nice evening, even when she didn’t have the chance to see Jason that time, as he was out of the city working in the family business with Bruce and his siblings.

“So, eleven people is it?”

“Thirteen maybe” Alia suggests “There’s also his brother’s fiancée and his other brother partner”

“It’s fine” Ma calms her down “We can make a big casserole for all of us”

By we, Alia knows her mom is referring to her dad making all the cooking. He is a big fan of casseroles and new Youtube recipes and her mom always encouraged him to try new things. He mostly does delicious meals, thought, so all his efforts are really appreciated.

“I’ll tell them, ma. I promise”

From inside her room and despite being distracted by their phone conversation, Alia hears the unmistakable sound of her living room window frame creaking open.

Her body immediately responds to the sound by tensing, and instinctively, Alia bends down to pick up the gun she had hidden under her bed.

“Baby?” Her mom calls her “Are you okay?”

Alia doesn’t want to worry her mom. —What could she do from such a distance? It's not like she could teleport from the farm to her apartment in Gotham, and even if she could do it, Alia isn't sure how useful the three of them could be in the case of a robbery.

That is precisely why her father gifted her a gun as soon as the acceptance letter with her name on it arrived.

“Yeah, ma. I have to check something out” Alia says “I’ll call you tomorrow again, okay? Please pick up my calls”

“I love you baby”

“I love you both”

As soon as the call ends up, Alia puts Jason’s number on quick dial. She doesn’t push the call button as she wouldn’t like to bother him if what she hears is only a product of her own imagination mixed with her tired brain.

She quickly steps out of her room into her darker living room, she watches two distinctive figures holding each other.

“Shit” Alia says “Is this like a family bussiness? Are you all part of a mafia?”

The scene is almost laughable. Such a coincidence. As Alia was previously thinking about how many of Jason's siblings she didn't know yet.

Behind half a broken mask, Alia recognizes the features of one of Jason's younger brothers.

Timothy Drake, who is bent on his side supporting his torso with one arm while he leans on the shoulder of the person next to him, a woman with golden hair and a slender figure, Stephanie Brown.

They both have… curious outfits on. A mixture of vibrant colors and different patterns: Red, black and yellow for him. Violet and black for her.

Alia isn’t used to meet that many superheroes, really. That was one of the main reasons why her parents decided to raised her and her siblings in a farm far away from any major city —To protect them from the whole superhero chaos that reigned the world. Just until all of them were old enough to make their own life choices.

And now, to her own personal count, she has met Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood and… these two. Alia actually doesn’t know the names for these identities.

Probably it is something she has to get used to. She really doesn’t ask Jason a lot about his work and what he exactly does around the city. She only knows whatever small detail Jason told her from time to time.

Better not knowing than having something slipped out of her tongue.

So far, she knows that Jason, Damian, Stephanie and Tim are involved in somewhat vigilante duty. And that is a stretch. What would their father think about their nightly activities? Bruce Wayne is a good, gentle soul, but he is as clueless of anything as it gets.

He would probably have a heart attack if he were to know about his children’s acts.

“That’s better than I expected” Tim says, briefly laughing at the commotion through his bloody teeth.

Alia hushes to help him lay down on her couch as Stephanie struggles to managed his dead weight by her own.

Both of their superhero suits has burned holes in different places. They smell like smoke.

“We finally have the chance to meet you” Stephanie energetically says “We were close nearby and our comms burned down. You see, there’s this new fire that Bane invented that’s able to got through the Kevlar and we-”

Stephanie is speaking so fast that she seems to not notice her own burned wounds as she slaps her hands across the air while explaining all the details to Alia.

“We need help and Jason trusts you. A l-lot” Tim admits from his defenseless position on the couch. He is having a hard time breathing “Out of the blue. I know”

Alia doesn’t have a lot of training in burn wounds but she remembers some things from her undergrad training and for the rest, she can just figure it out on the go.

“It’s fine. Your secret is safe with me” Alia says “I can help you out, you know that. That’s why you came here” She adds, while getting up to search for whatever left over medical materials she has around her home “, but I need your help with something”

“What is it?” Stephanie asks, already thinking about whose bones she has to break.

“What are y’all plans for Thanksgiving?”

Chapter Text

Since when has Jason become such a peaceful man?

He feels kind of ashamed, he muses as he looks at the bouquet of flowers in his hand. No one has ever made him feel this way before. What he feels for his soulmate is something more intense than the supposedly unbreakable bond that unites them.

Fate. That is what people think it is all about. Jason doesn’t believe that something as unpredictable as fate gets to be the only factor that led him to meet Alia. Fate seems like something too mundane to explain how he feels about her.

Has fate led him to buy her favorite flowers the morning after a particularly turbulent night of patrol? No. Jason made the conscious decision to detour to a flower shop and carefully choose each petunia specimen for her.

Flowers and a couple of bottles of private reserve wine. Would that be enough for her? Making sure she is happy comes so naturally to Jason that he often finds himself thinking about what things Alia would need and how he could make her already tiresome routine a lot easier.

Stephanie and Tim have told Jason about their little interruption to Alia’s apartment, and Jason found the image very amusing —Little Alia pointing an automatic pistol while wearing those pink heart pajamas of hers.

“I don’t know how to use it” Alia admitted when Jason confronted her “But a gun pointing at you it’s enough for any burglar”

“Let me teach you” Jason told her “It’s a good skill to have. Especially in Gotham”

“You can try” Alia laughed off “But I don’t think I have it on me to shot anyone. At all”

The thought of both of them sharing their first Thanksgiving together fills him with equal parts of panic and excitement, honestly. It’s an important date in any family, and he feels honored that they took him into account for their festivities.

BUT, the idea of ​​meeting Alia's parents and siblings also terrifies him. Jason isn't going to lie to himself.

What if they didn't like him? Jason considers himself a good man (sometimes) but he knows there are many things about him that are, uh, unconventional.

Like his white hair strand, the fact that his job is to kill criminals or that he used to be dead.

Everything could turn out very well or very badly, he reasons, but he is sure that eventually he would have to meet his soulmate's family. Especially if he wants to pursue anything further with her.

Memories of Alia sleeping on his chest flooded back to him at random times of his day. She is branded with fire in his brain.

The morning after their sleepover, Jason had woken up before her, and silently, he stared in wonder at every little facial feature of the girl. He stood really still in case any movement could wake her and shatter that perfect fragment of morning peace.

The world, Gotham, and all its problems seemed very far away the moment a sleepy Alia curled up next to him, reaching for him even asleep.

He adores her. There is no other way to describe it. Being soulmates means that they have both shared the same soul at some point in their existence. Jason can't find any other explanation for the feelings that consume him day after day. It is a strange combination, a feverish madness that mix possessiveness with devotion.

He loves her so much that the feeling makes him sick.

What does she feel for him? Jason isn't sure. Sometimes he believes that his feelings are reciprocated, other times he reasons that Alia simply considers him a good friend.

The answer to that question is a doubt that haunts him every night. He wants to be more than just a good friend to her, but the idea of ​​rushing things terrifies him.

Maybe he just represents someone she can trust and keep her company in a city that seems so foreign from what she associates with familiarity.

Alia confessed to him a handful of times that she hasn't quite adjusted to the busy chaos of Gotham. Its complicated normality seems far away from what she is used to.

She has been longing to return to her hometown for months, but it had been impossible to do so because of her job. She has missed the birthdays of two of her brothers and the birth of her mare's first foal (which was a really important event for her and she got really really sad that day).

Hearing this while passing by, Bruce might or might not have intervened to get the permission needed to spend Thanksgiving with her family approved.

Maybe. It is just a rumor.

What neither of them had considered was that Alia would take the very first moment after getting that approval to drive straight to her hometown.

Jason is still prickly from finding out about this only when he received a text from her telling him that she would come home a couple of days early to help with the dinner preparations and that she would wait for them there.

So in their merry way, the Wayne family goes ahead on their trip. A road trip, you would think? Bruce Wayne doesn’t know the meaning of those words. They have obviously taken the private jet.

Two hours of flight and forty-five minutes of driving after it, the plan is for a round trip.

They would stop by at the Gomez’ for dinner and share a couple of hours with Alia's family then later return to Gotham in the evening to proceed with their usual patrol activities. Crime did not rest.

Only Alfred, Bruce, Cass, Tim, Stephanie and obviously Jason himself attend. Dick chose to spend the date with the Titans in Bludhaven, Duke stayed back in Gotham to visit his parents and Damian, Dominicus and Akiko are spending the day with her parents at Akiko's own home.

Jason stands motionless, squeezing the flowers between his fingers to steel himself and calm his incessant nerves. He inhales and exhales deeply.

“You must be Jason!”

Alia's father was a stocky man with broad shoulders and tanned skin. As he greets him and shakes his hands, Jason feels those kind of deep calluses that are related to a lifetime of manual labor. The man has sincere eyes and a pleasant smile.

With a thick southern accent, he tells them his name is Roger and he is at their service from now on. He also gladly accepts the bottles of wine Bruce bought especially for the occasion.

“We’re glad you could make it to our home”

Alia's mother is a small woman with round cheeks and the same curly hair as her daughter. She has a thick French accent. A fact that Jason had previously been unaware of and only noticed because the woman pronounces her R's with a particular force.

When she greets him, she squeezes him into a hug that is way too tight for Jason's own comfort. Her name is Marie and she seems to share the same lively enthusiasm that her daughter always has.

Alia is waiting for them with her parents, dressed in a white dress and beige sandals. Her black hair is pulled back in a subtle updo. When she approaches Jason to hug him, the tips of one of her curls tickles his jaw as he leans down to her.

“Come forward please” Alia says and she smiles nervously as soon as she notices the flowers on Jason’s hand “T-they’re beautiful. Thank you”

The house that greets them is a spacious, deco-style property with vibrant colors. It is plenty of fluffy furniture and a handful of photographs of children at different stages of life. There are also several paintings of horses and some stirrups tucked away in the corners.

The home smells strongly of blackberry pie and sweet-sour pork. The light provided by the bulbs is a pale yellow and all the windows are open. There is no full air conditioning, but a couple of ceiling fans cool by producing a subtle noise. The insides of the house are huge, filled with a lot of objects fighting to catch the attention.

Alia's childhood home reveals secrets of the girl's life with its architectural details and its disparate objects. In a large part, the house is a reflection of that part of Alia that is cheerful and daring, brave in showing her disparity against the rest.

Above the entrance to the hall, a collage of various family moments stands out to the Waynes' eyes.

There are several photographs of four black-haired children of different sizes. Through the images, you could see them growing up doing different activities: horse riding, math olympics, chess, and ice skating.

Jason assumes that it is because of his own life history that Bruce has this weakness for welcoming those he feels affection for as his own. The man keeps confirming it year after year. Jason remembers how amazed Bruce was the day he met Akiko, Bruce almost cried joyous tears when he learned she liked flight planes as much as he did.

That specific evening, Bruce seems dazzled by the warm familiarity that fills Alia's home.

The home is run like a clock because as soon as they entered each member sets out to do a different activity: Alfred goes along with Alia's father as they enter the kitchen discussing recipes and Tim stays behind alongside Stephanie, with Alia's mother while explaining some details about the wine bottles they brought.

While Alia is getting ready to find a vase to put the flowers Jason brought her, Bruce is next to her, briefly talking about a couple of technical matters regarding the management of supplies at Wayne Hospital.

Jason can see a glimpse of warmth on his old man’s eyes when he looks at her. Bruce is probably starting to like her more than he would admit. Alia usually has that effect on people.

Cassandra and him stand behind at the back of the room, sharing a comfortable silence. Neither of them is known for being people of many words, and they are both fine with that.

Plus, neither of them knows exactly what the proper etiquette for this kind of events is. They just stand up quietly put together.

Sooner than later Alia’s mother steps out of her conversation with Timothy and turns around to look directly at Jason. He smiles nervously, and Cass laughs softly at his side as she knows he is about to throw up from anxiety.

He is petrified to the idea of Alia’s mother questioning him. He knows it will be like a test in some sort of way. To prove he is worth to be around their precious daughter.

“Dinner is almost ready!” Roger interrupts from the kitchen “Alia, could you wait for James outside? He’s entering through the gates”

Marie takes that statement as an opportunity to approach him.

“He’s the most excited to meet you” Marie elbows Jason playfully “You should come along”

The calm of the farm is welcoming in a vastly different way than the big city of Gotham is. At that time of the evening, as the sun falls across the sky, the colors of the sunset blurs into a splendorous landscape. Quietness prevails.

Jason watches Alia rocking in one of the chairs in the front yard as soon as they set foot outside. In the distance, a blue pickup truck with huge tires is approaching quickly, still a little over a mile away. Barely perceptible by its moving silhouette.

A pair of yellow and black feathered birds perch on one of the many bird feeders that are placed on the railing outside the property. The two of them chat while waiting for the truck of one of Alia's brothers to park.

Jason details the birds. They are a pair of small animals with bright black eyes that don't seem to have much behind them.

“Robins” Alia explains from behind “They’re pretty common this time of the year”

Chapter Text

He couldn't lie, James Jr. found it a bit funny that his sister Alia's soulmate was such a strange man.

Jason Todd was adopted to a multi-billionaire family. He is a man as attractive as it could get and he has a strong passion for motorcycles. He has all the elements to be a fuckboy, a non-commitment cool guy.

Still, he is just as strange as any middle brother.

As a middle brother himself, James Jr. understands where the similitude to both him and his sister come from.

Any middle child could testify. They all have some sort of disparity that could only be sorted out by being a strange little fella such as Jason and Alia.

His sister is also a peculiar young woman, although not as much as she used to be during her college years (The whole family suffer multiple headaches just remembering all the crazy things that young woman had done during her time studying abroad).

Alia has always been interested in weird topics and often struggle to form meaningful conversations aside from her particular interests, which often make her an outcast in social groups, despite her rather refreshing personality. She isn’t always the best at letting others know she is cool like that. A peculiar social butterfly, some might say.

James Jr. is the only sibling to be able to make it home to Thanksgiving, but he sure as hell would accomplish the task he has been commanded by his other two siblings.

Get a non-biased opinion on Alia’s soulmate and maaaaaaaaaaybe scare him a little bit.

The second part seems rather difficult now that James Jr. has seen how massive his sister’s soulmate is (A muscle wall with at least 6’2 on height), but he would try his best.

He likes the man. It is funny to watch him acting so oddly around the family, like missing most of the social clues on how to behave around people. Same as his sister often does.

Alia is a peculiar but adventurous soul, and it is a good sign that her soulmate seems to share those characteristics with her.

Jason has two-tone hair, a messy, punkish style. He moves calmly but his arms longed way too fast. His feet squeaks against the wooden floor of the house.

While the other members of the Wayne family enjoy with impeccable manners, Jason carefully chews each bite of the dinner prepared by Pa and slowly picks at each piece of food, seemingly terrified of doing something out of place.

He doesn’t relax not for a bit at any point of their meal, except when James Jr.’s sister directly jokes with him.

Alia has told them some things about him in their siblings’ group chat, like about how they go on unusual dates and that Jason always worries about her getting to work on time. She even told them about the gifts he gives her out of nowhere.

They aren't a couple yet, as Alia swore multiple times, but to James Jr. they aren’t so far away from becoming one.

James Jr. has imagined certain things about Jason, since he knew him from the photos Alia sent the group chat of the two of them together doing various activities. He even remembers with special tenderness the photo in which they appeared with Jason's nephew and one of his little brothers, Damian.

Seeing him face to face for the first time make things very different. Jason seems like a chill guy but there is something very strange about him. James Jr. can’t really tell if it’s the odd way he moves or those bright eyes of his.

At the end of their dinner, Pa insists to go to the backyard to organize some things. It is so clearly an excuse that James Jr. immediately catches his Pa wanting to know more about Jason without the presence of the ever-analytic Alia, whose astute mind could always tell first hand their movements even before they themselves know.

“Rabbits?”

Jason asks them once they arrive at the backyard. He looks to be full of questions. James Jr. guesses that it’s normal, due to him being a city boy. He mustn’t have much knowledge of typical farm life.

In front of them, the Gomez’ bunnies hatchery awaits. It’s more of a hobby for his parents than a true commercial part of their farm, but it has been a tradition ever since James Jr. can remember. Multiples generations of bunnies lived their lives inside the hatchery. They help keeping the pasture low and they are also really cute to look at.

“Yeah” James Jr. simply answers “You can take one if you want to”

It is something they often offer to any guest. Pa half-smiles at his words. It’s no strange to any of them

Notably uncomfortable, Jason kneels down to hold one of the smaller specimens with red eyes and gray fur. The animal kicks him with his back paws, trying to escape.

“Son” Pa calls the newcomer “Has my Alia give you any problem?”

His Alia. James Jr. could laugh but he remains serious. Pa never calls Alia that. He is really putting on that strict façade to deceive Jason.

“Not at all” Jason immediately answers “She’s the furthest thing from a problem”

Pa and James Jr. laugh at the unison. Alia Gomez not giving any trouble? The whole family disagrees. They all love Alia but she has a very intense personality.

“She’s always one to be wild” Pa admits “In college she was so obsessed to get good grades that she took Dexedrine non-stop”

Jason shrugs but doesn’t add anything else. James Jr. doesn’t want to remember those past memories of his little sister’s addiction. None of them know exactly how to keep going with the conversation. Pa loves to talk, sometimes even more than needed.

“Just be careful” Pa adds after a moment “She’s good but obsessive. That’s her main weakness. She’d sacrifice anything to get what she wants”

Jason silently nods.

“She’s a good kid. And you two seemed to get along just fine. Trear her right”

“I will, sir”

Once they return to the house, Jason’s siblings mesmerize by the bunny in his hands. They are harvesting ideas for the animal’s new name around the man, who hears all of them in silence.

Alfred, Jason’s adoptive grandfather and great cooker, smiles brightly at them.

“Excellent” Alfred announces with a notable sarcastic tone “Another pet”

Likewise, James Jr. is happy for Alia, even if her soulmate is a strange groovy man. Anyone can tell that Jason adores her from miles away. It is all that matters. She is the first-person Jason Todd-Wayne approaches to show the new bunny. His eyes shine with wild intensity as he looked at her.

“Goody two-paws” Alia mumbles, playing with the bunny’s frontal paws “That could be her new name”

Jason smiles brightly and shakes his head.

“That’s a terrible name, Lia”

At the end of the evening, Jason insists on staying to escort Alia during her road trip back to Gotham and James Jr. finally confirms that his sister has found someone who would take care of her (Even above of his own comfort).

Truth be told, who the hell denies a private flight to go on fifteen hours’ drive back home just to escort someone else?

That is the kind of thing that Jason Todd willingly does for Alia.

Chapter Text

Do you believe in God?

Vera never knew how to answer that question.

The day she turned sixteen and found out she was pregnant with her first daughter, she was pretty sure God had abandoned her.

Vera felt the whole world and its possibilities closed over her as soon as she saw the POSITIVE marked on the pharmacy test she had taken in a hotel bathroom.

Just outside the hotel room, Ivan, her first and only boyfriend, her very own soulmate, waited for her.

Karenina, their first and only daughter, had been born a robust and chubby infant, with the same blonde hair she inherited from Ivan’s and a pair of small brown eyes that observed the world with curiosity.

The day she was born, Vera thought that perhaps God did exist, and her daughter was his special gift to them.

Karenina grew up to develop into an absolutely talented girl like few existed. Passionate and focused on her art, ballet.

Both of her first-time parents did their best, devoting their entire lives to give her the best opportunities, never minding the long hours at tedious jobs and the physical strain that they entailed.

Karenina grew up to become the best at her art. She graduated from a prestigious dance academy and landed a job as a prima ballerina at Gotham's main theater before she even finished her studies.

Karenina is a natural. She move around the stage with such ease that Vera is convinced she was born for it.

Vera would have cared for her with her whole life, protected her from anything, just so Karenina would only worry about dancing for the rest of her days.

It was what mothers do, what anyone who had seen Karenina dancing would have done.

Such a beautiful, unique, phenomenal talent.

That night, Karenina has a performance of her star piece, The Nutcracker, specially directed to raise funds from Gotham's high society to allocate to social programs.

Vera attends, as does Ivan, although they have been separated for many years, they maintain a cordial relationship for the sake of their daughter, and like it tends to happen, they still share that special connection only soulmates understand.

Living in Gotham entailed many things, among them an ever-prevailing feeling of anguish over rampant crime.

The decision to raise their daughter in such a city had not been an easy one to make. But for teenage parents with short incomes, the living costs in Gotham were their only opportunity to live a decent life.

Also Gotham and its crazy criminals were an easier option than Metropolis and its monthly alien attacks or the temporal disasters that occurred yearly in Central City.

Vera usually answered that yeah she did believe in God, even if her faith sometimes wavers or she is not a frequent attendee at any mass or congregation.

Her daughter is her divine gift, the one that gave meaning to her bitter life. God had looked after them for a long time, gifting them a seemingly peaceful life with few problems.

But perhaps his protection has run out that night.

Six years since the last time the Joker had attacked the city.

Karenina was barely a teenager when the attacks happened, Vera remembers that she banned her daughter from going to school or dance practice for ten full days until the violence stopped. The police took care of the maniacal clown and his hideous girlfriend, ending his reign of brutality.

Life in Gotham went on as normal. You could live in a certain calm, as long as you avoid some areas of the city and take the logical precautions. Gotham is like any other city for the most part.

Except that night, when Karenina is in the middle of her second act, they return.

Harley Quinn, the girlfriend of that bastard clown, camouflages herself among the supporting ballerinas and, so unfortunate is their fate, the hostage of Harley’s evil plan turns out to be her beloved Karenina.

Moving around the stage in the role of little Clara, Karenina is so focused on her art that she couldn't noticed the moment when Harley Quinn comes forward to slice the back of her neck.

Vera watches in horror as a night that is supposed to enjoy her daughter's talent on stage once again ends with a scene of Karenina holding her neck open with her hands. Her white feathered gloves dyed pure red too quickly.

Karenina falls. Her body is convulsing on the stage. There is a lot of screaming. Ivan jumps from the seat next to her to approach their daughter.

He climbs the stage, driven by the adrenaline rush that allows a sedentary 47-year-old man to reach the top in just seconds.

Vera blinks. Her throat burns. She isn't sure if she herself is screaming.

Harley Quinn is laughing maniacally, above Karenina, talking to her and shouting something to the audience. Vera can't hear her. Her lips are moving but she can't pick up the sound. Her head is buzzing. Karenina is on the stage. Where is she?

Batman appears after a long time.

Vera had never seen him before. She honestly thought he was more of an urban legend than a real character. He does something to incapacitate Harley Quinn. Vera can't focus on it.

Her feet move to follow a teenager dressed in bright colors who is carrying her bleeding daughter in his arms.

“You have to take her to Wayne Hospitals” Some man says behind them “I work there. I am a neurosurgeon.”

The teenager in the strange suit nods as they run out of the theater. Behind them, there are people fighting. Vera doesn’t care. Karenina is leaving a trail of blood behind her.

“We have to hurry” The same man who spoken earlier says “Holding her like that is causing her cervical to suffer more impact”

Besides her, Ivan is crying avidly. Vera is probably crying too.

The ambulance arrives and they both sit in the front of it, although the driver groans. There is no human power on Earth that would be able to stop them to be with their daughter.

The man who had been following them from the theater, the neurosurgeon, gets in the back of the ambulance with their daughter. The teenager in the colorful suit disappears into the shadows behind them.

The drive to the hospital takes forever. Vera prays all the prayers she knows, those she learned in her childhood, the same ones her own mother taught her to protect herself and those she loved.

The words are mixed together in her mind. Just supplications. God had protected them before. He can do so again now.

What were the odds of a neurosurgeon being on the same theater as them? Just at the exact moment Karenina was attacked. It must mean something.

Divine intervention.

God must have been working overtime to help them.

As soon as they arrive at the hospital, four figures using medical uniforms are waiting for them. One of them wears a navy-blue scrub and the other three wear white ones.

“Dr. Elliot” The young woman in blue scrubs calls the man who is already getting out of the back of the ambulance with Karenina “The O.R is ready. Anesthesiology is on its way”

Vera feels like she herself is dying. Ivan is holding her against his chest, the same as he did when they were younger. The same he did the day they knew Karenina was on her way to this world.

Once the nurses take Karenina’s stretcher inside the hospital, the so-called Dr. Elliot starts to take off his tuxedo with avid hands. He has the cuffs of his elegant suit soaked with the blood of Vera’s daughter.

“Harley Quinn attacked her. I suspect the cut severed from C3 to C6. She’s hyponatremic” Dr. Elliot explains to the young woman. “Fill the ambulance form. I’m going to change for the O.R. I'll wait for you there"

The old doctor runs inside the hospital, and the only ones remaining outside are the two of them and that younger girl that looks at them with eyes full of tenderness.

“Save her” Ivan begs to the girl “Doesn’t matter what it costs. Save her”

The girl blinks at their direction, frowning her brows at them. She can’t be any older than Karenina herself.

“She’s going to be fine. I promise you”

Her voice is soft but full of security. Her I.D says Neurosurgery I. Alia Gomez. She is a doctor too. She has a smart look on her eyes. Her words and security must mean something too.

As her ex-husband and soulmate holds Vera’s hand, she thanks God for helping them once again.

Chapter Text

Alia has assisted Dr. Elliot in many surgeries. She does so almost daily, but usually they were patients with recurring wounds or those who had just come from terrible accidents. Always during her work shift or on her academic hours.

Never before has Dr. Elliot called her requesting her help out of schedule.

Alia jumped out of her bed at the end of the call, almost dropping the bag with food and toys for Jason's bunny that she bought earlier.

She grabbed a half-undone hospital bag from her last shift, put on the first clean scrub she found and drove in her car heading to the hospital. Alia probably broken more than a couple of traffic laws, but it is Gotham and nobody really respects them anyway.

Her colleagues greet her with concern. It is a busy night. There have been multiple attacks across the city in just a matter of hours. The entire staff rushes through the hospital.

Alia runs to her cubicle and in less than two minutes, she left her pajamas behind and is wearing her medical scrubs.

She skillfully coordinates a group of orderlies and nurses to serve as their support team and calls Dr. Samuels to come to the hospital to assist with anesthetists.

As briefly described by Dr. Elliot on the call, the patient is a woman between 25-30 years old, attacked from behind with a sharp object. She has lost half a liter of blood in twenty-five minutes. Alia calls the blood bank and prepares universal donor blood supplies.

She just has to wait for Dr. Elliot and the patient to arrive.

The young girl’s parents break her heart. They are holding each other, and look at her with such despair that Alia feels them way too closer to her. They remind her of her parents. How desperate they would be in the same position, had something like that happened to her. The patient is not much older than her. Alia feels like crying when getting ready for the O.R

Alia isn’t from Gotham and therefore, she can’t really understand what is the fuss that is sweeping through the city.

She doesn’t know who Harley Quinn is or what she means to the inhabitants of Gotham City. She isn’t even sure if she heard the name right.

Alia knows that the only one capable of causing such harm to a young dancer in the middle of a stage and in her parents' full view is a complete psychopath.

Suddenly she doesn’t feel so safe living in the city.

The O.R is cold, as usual. Dr. Elliot performs the surgery with quite expertise.

There aren’t many people working in the case, not as many as it should. It isn’t no secret Gotham has a shortage from worker-patient ratio tonight.

So far, there is only a lead surgeon, Dr. Elliot, an anesthesiologist, Dr. Samuels, two attending nurses instead of the usual three, nurse Scott and nurse Lewis, and a practicing surgeon, Alia herself. It usually takes at least three experimented surgeons and a few extra hands to achieve an optimal result on that kind of complex patients.

The surgery takes much longer than expected because of the same reason: The hospital is a pandemonium and there are not enough hands to help everyone.

Too many injuries in too little time. Virtually the entire staff was called to report for immediate duty. The logistics of supplies and medications are being a nightmare. The administration has too much paperwork to fill out from all the admissions of that night.

None of that mattered much. Her attention has to be completely focused on the patient in the operating room, not going around on everything that is wrong outside.

The nurses have already channeled Karenina's veins and removed her clothes to clean her better. The anesthesiologist already put her under the effects of anesthesia.

“Doctor” Her chief, Dr. Elliot calls her “Focus”

Alia stares at the pale skin of the young woman. Under the neutral lighting of the O.R., Karenina Volkova has the same yellowish tint Alia has witnessed in some medical literature.

Karenina faces down, lying on a specially modified neurosurgical table. Dr. Elliot has begun work on reconnecting her severed nerves.

Alia is supporting the operation to the best of her ability.

She is only a first-year resident, in fact, she is the only neurosurgical resident in that hospital, which by the way only have 4 neurosurgeons on its payroll, and they are all busy attending to different cases.

That night has been crazier than any other.

There are so many people crying, bleeding, praying. Alia can hear the screams of Ms. Vera, her patient's mother, even inside the operating room.

It is such a difficult scenario. If Karenina does survive the surgery, she would most like be quadriplegic from the rest of her life. The blade that cut into her skin is somehow able to penetrate the bone tissue that covered her vertebrae and reached to her nerves.

“Doctor Gomez” Nurse Lewis reiterates “We need you here. Focus”

Alia is truly trying her best. She can hear Ms. Vera’s screams outside the room. As she holds the Kerrinson Ronguer, an especial instrument for spine surgery, her hands start shaking. Something that rarely ever happens to her.

Her thoughts are racing. Thinking about all the horrible things she has heard about the city. Alia has never heard someone screamed like that. She has never seen anyone with so many injuries before.

Karenina Volkova not only has a deep cut at the cervical level, but she has also been doused with some sort of acidic liquid.

It is the most terrifying thing Alia had ever witnessed in her young career.

The substance is radioactive green, sticky to the touch, and is melting her patient's skin at an alarming rate. Much of it fell over on Karenina's costume, and the thicker fabric somewhat protected most of her vital structures.

But her legs are a mess. The ballerina tights had been no impediment to the acid.

The liquid does not seem to dilute despite Karenina being bathed in saline solution multiple times.

Other possible options for cleaning her were being considered, but the primary thing is to stabilize the wound on her neck if she was to be given a chance to survive.

A piece of skin from her shoulders gets stuck against Alia's gloves when she helps turn Karenina on her side for better positioning during surgery.

The skin covers in the liquid smelled strongly of rotten meat, even throughout the protective mask Alia wears. Like flesh that has been left out in the open for several days. It isn't like a burn of any kind, in fact, it doesn't look like anything Alia has seen in any of her practices before. She hasn't read about anything like it in any of book nor in any article.

Alia suppresses a gag that rises in her throat as soon as she noticed the fragments of burnt flesh in her hands.

“Are you okay?” Dr. Samuels asks her.

He is the furthest away from the operation table, carefully monitoring the oxygen machines that breathe out for Karenina’s lungs while she is unconscious. The look on his eyes declares that he is deeply affected by this case too.

“Y-Yeah”

“She’s so young” Dr. Samuels continues “She looks about the same age as my grandson”

It isn’t uncommon for them to have all sort of patients around their operation table. Anyone and everyone could have a horrible incident that compromised something from their nervous system anytime. But to be honest, they have never had such a young patient in such a bad state.

Alia hadn't had the heart to tell Karenina's parents how unlikely it is that their daughter would even survive the night. How could she tell them? She didn't want to play with their hopes, but Alia also knows that nothing in the future was set in stone.

“It’s just how cases works” Dr. Elliot declares, with his eyes focused on Karenina’s bleeding neck “It’s just how this job works”

Dr. Elliot is a kind man, but he earned his reputation as the best in the world with his own merits. While he operates, there is not a hint of disturbance on his face, despite the complications of the case.

Karenina is rapidly decompensating. She has not been stable at any time either, but she just keeps getting worse. The longer the operation continues, the more difficult it will be to control the homeostasis necessary for the biological functions of her body.

“You shouldn’t behave like that, doctor” Nurse Lewis says “She is a person. Not a case. Empathy is a normal thing to feel”

Nurse Scott is applying more fluids to Karenina's catheter. The patient's feet swell in an unlikely manner. Her kidneys are working overtime.

Something is wrong.

“Useless in this scenario” Dr. Elliot answers “Empathy clouds your judgement. We are not here for that”

His hands move with extreme precision

“Alia! Good God! Stop shaking!”

The O.R fills with silence. Alia focuses on controlling her own hands. The instrument between them moves imperiously.

“She’s still bleeding” Dr. Elliot announces “, by now hemostasis should have done its effect” The older doctor signals the pair of surgical forceps that holds the tissue shut. “This is not right”

Alia looks at Karenina’s vitals and she knows something is definitely not right. Her oxygen saturation drops low, under 65% and her pressure is descending in a fast cascade.

“Check her” Dr. Elliot tells Alia.

Check for confirmations of brain activity and physiological function —Alia knows the procedure by heart.

She puts aside the surgical instrument and lunges at the patient to examine her.

The young woman on the operating table makes no gesture as Alia presses a finger against her pale skin, searching for more data on capillary refill. Alia counts. It takes 4 seconds for the swollen skin to return to its original color. Then, with two fingers, she opens one of Karenina’s eyes, which surprises her by showing her a particularly beautiful but inert honey-colored eye.

“Not pupilar reaction” Alia informs “Delayed capillary refill”

Those are all bad signals, even worse taking in consideration Karenina’s case is deeply complicated. They are running out of options, the same as Karenina’s runs out of time.

“She’s having a cardiac arrest” Dr. Samuels says. “Her body is shutting down all physiological functions”

Dr. Samuels' words act as a magical signal to the entire staff. Within milliseconds, all the pieces of the complex surgical machinery fall into place.

“Scott, administer adrenaline through IV. 0.5 ml” Dr. Elliot calls “Alia, start CPR protocols”

Alia does as she is told. Once they manage to turn up Karenina’s chest, Alia begins to do the mandatory compressions against her chest. Something cracks behind her palms. Probably a rib.

The adrenaline shot needs to start to do its effect soon or it would be all for nothing. Seconds passes. Alia is still doing compressions. Rhythm in her mind.

Six, seven, eight.

She knows the protocol. She just has to follow it. Don't think about anything else.

“Stop!”

Dr. Elliot’s powerful voice demands. Silence overpowers the previously chaotic room. The flatline on Karenina’s monitor effectively indicates she is gone.

“Time of dead: Eleven thirty-two pm” Dr. Samuels says.

There is a prevailing sense of defeat in the operating room. Dr. Samuels’ announcement is an unmistakable message to cease all attempts to continue.

Karenina is dead. At eleven thirty-two p.m. of that night, the young dancer dies.

“I’ll inform her parents” Dr. Elliot says, withdrawing his hands from the surgical field and tearing the gloves off his hands with a weary air.

Chapter Text

At the lonely private doorway outside the O.R, a single slap cuts the implacable silence short.

“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND!?”

He has never been that angry at her before.

Dr. Elliot has scolded her before, when she failed a question on a test or even when she wasn’t able to make a perfect incision on a particular fragile tissue —Even then he never yelled at her like that nor Alia believed he would have been capable to slap her.

Her left cheek is itching after the hit. She holds it with a trembling hand, Alia stares blankly at her boss with disbelief.

“Why the fuck are you going around making promises!?” Dr. Elliot yells. His hands close around Alia’s arms with brutal force “you told that poor mother her daughter would get out alive of the O.R! You couldn’t know that!” He hisses at her “That girl is now dead and that is your fault Alia.”

Alia can’t stop crying. She really can’t. As Dr. Elliot’s grip gets tighter, she wishes she could tear off her own skin. Left her bloody insides over the place. Disfigure her own face. Stop being herself. Become nobody. Disappear into oblivion. Go back to her parents’ farm and never leave.

She has lost patients before but never like this.

Alia doesn’t know why Dr. Elliot is more infuriated because of what she promised to Ms. Vera than the fact that they lost Karenina in the O.R. He had told her before he hated promises, but Alia couldn’t possibly imagine to what extent.

“It was your lack of profesionalism that killed her”

She is shaking. Visibly. She can’t collect herself. Surgeons aren’t supposed to be such emotional creatures. They can’t let their feelings get to the best of them.

Is it how it is supposed to be? She heard stories about resident abuse during the program, but she didn’t believe them to be true. Is it something she has to get use to?

During her training years, she was told to always respect the Service Chief.

Alia wants to say something. Anything. How could she apologize for taking a life? The responsibility is theirs once they take up the scalpel. She has been studying a lot, practicing at the best of her capacities. But Ms. Vera’s screams distracted her.

Surgeons are not that emotional, Alia remembers herself. She is supposed to zone out to be able to perform surgery, even in the most difficult times. Her own hands had failed her. Her pulse.

No matter how much time she spent studying and practicing, she wouldn’t be a surgeon if she invests herself that much into her cases. She has always been one to feel everything a lot. It is going to cause her downfall eventually.

“Go home Alissa” Dr. Elliot says, finally letting her go free “You’re dismissed for the day”

As soon as he lets go of her, she chickens herself small. Feeling like a misbehaved infant next to the older man.

“I’m sorry” Alia mumbles “I really am. I c-can do extra hours, cover for the paperwork, I-I cou-”

Dr. Elliot just watches at her with disdain. His glasses are shinning with the iridescent light of the walls.

“Tell your boy Harley Quinn is back” He spits “I know you don’t have a clue what that means but he will”

Harley Quinn? Was that like a name for real? He said it earlier, but Alia was sure she had gotten it wrong.

“Is she a terrorist?”

Dr. Elliot hands her a blood covered pin. It is something like a clown face with some words wrote over it. It is stained with Karenina’s dry blood, Alia recognizes it as that something that was stuck over her custom ballerina corset.

She can’t look at it long enough to really detail it, but she guesses it isn’t a name then, rather a harlequin that is terrorizing the city.

Karenina’s blood.

It is a painful reminder of her own failures. Alia closes her grip around the pin in a tightly fist.

“Take care Alia” He tells her “Don’t go out alone. Come earlier to all of your shifts and don’t leave before the sun comes out” Dr. Elliot says "The city is going to hell if Batman doesn’t catch them quickly”.

Chapter Text

By the time Alia arrives at her apartment, Jason is already inside waiting for her.

His soulmate texted him asking him to come over to her apartment because she was coming off early from her shift. It was an odd situation but Jason guessed she maybe had finished all her cases and wanted him to be there so they could spend the evening together.

An inexplicable feeling weighs down his chest. A feeling Jason can't quite put his finger on. He didn't think it was anxiety, since everything had been particularly good that day. There is no reason for him to feel that way at all.

Maybe it’s not his emotion but Alia's, Jason guesses, wanting to believe it’s just the nervousness they both felt whenever they met.

He has a couple of things to do for the day, but they all can wait until nightfall for him to take care of them. Bruce asked for his help on a new case, something to do with an attack on a dance theater downtown.

He would go into it as soon as he finds out what Alia is up to.

He had a lot of ideas about what it could be, but, when Alia gets through the entrance door, it isn’t the image Jason pictured on his head.

Alia’s eyes are half-closed and her cheekbones’ skin is swollen, shinning with tears that silently run down her cheeks. She doesn’t look at him as she enters the apartment.

“Hey Jay”

Jason immediately stands up from the couch to try to reach her. Alia dukes down from his touch, instinctively. She has never done it before.

“Don’t” Alia whispers, making herself smaller to avoid him “I don’t wanna be touched Jay”

Unable to do anything but obey her, he can only watch the mechanical movements of his usually happy soulmate. She is moving automatically; Jason quickly understands from that lost look on her eyes and that half-open mouth from which small almost inaudible whines are coming out.

First; Alia unclips the clip holding her hospital ID and places it facing down on a small table in the hall.

“Lia?” Jason asks, not understanding anything about what happened but already fearing the worst. “Tell me what happened”

Second; Alia takes off her shoes, slipping them off from the sides without using her hands.

“Talk to me” Jason begs his soulmate. “, please”

Third; Alia enters the only bathroom in the apartment and all she does in response is turn on the bathtub faucet at full power.

“Alia”

He so desperately wants to hold her.

She gets rid of the top of her uniform with an aggressive movement. The blue shirt of her scrub falls to the floor in a silent scene, follow only by the pants of her uniform, whose fate also end up on the bathroom floor.

The only noise that interrupts the ever-present silence is the water that’s filling up the bathtub. Everything is happening desperately slow for Jason, whose mind is beginning to fear the worst.

Alia gets into the bathtub with half her clothes on. She is wearing mismatched underwear; A black panty with a blue brassier and white socks. They all go wet as the water falls down on her.

Catching all the bruises that begin to form on each of her arms, the realization hits Jason like a brick.

Before, he thought she may had gotten into a particularly difficult argument with a colleague or maybe an especially hard day at work.

Seeing those bruises on her arms make obviously clear to Jason that someone personally attack the girl.

His girl.

As Jason kneels down by her side, Alia doesn’t flinch. Not even a little. She doesn’t look at him either.

“Can you stay?”

The words come out of her mouth broken, like a plead. She’s sitting perfectly still under the running shower. Alia looks like a wet rag doll.

Jason desperately wants to touch her. Just to confirm to himself that she is in fact real and not the product of another nightmare of his.

“Munchkin” Jason whispers. “I won’t leave”

Inside the bathtub, Alia's body is completely submerged in water. Her black hair plasters to the skin of her back and falls over her forehead in messy strands. Her light makeup is beginning to run down her cheeks, mascara darkening the delicate skin beneath her eyes.

“She died” Alia cries out loud “I killed her”

On those seven months since they had met, Jason had never seen her like this. Alia, usually cheerful, never cries. Jason can't even remember seeing her come close to doing so in the real world. Only on his nightmares.

“What happened?”

Whatever it was, Jason can fix it for her.

Alia can ask him for anything and he would comply. Hell, she can even ask him to fly and Jason would find a way.

A simple murder? No problem, he can perfectly cover it.

Whatever she has done, it would be fixed in the blink of an eye. Anything to make Alia, his Alia, stop crying.

On the skin of her thin arms, two huge swollen marks appears. Jason frowns as his hands begins to itch. He consciously takes the decision to breath slower and deeper. He has to stay calm.

What has happened to you Lia? His mind is revolving. What kind of situation would have happened to get her injured and also killed somebody?

He wants to touch her. Desperately. She is almost catatonic. Blinking her soft blue eyes so slow it hurt Jason to only be able to watch.

He wants to dig his hands into her. Snap her out of it. Bring her back to reality.

Everything would be fine, he wants to assure her. Anything she has done, it would be fine.

Jason would make it fine so she doesn’t worry about a single thing in her life nevermore.

Alia notices his attitude change. She looks at him for the first time since she entered the apartment. She catches him still staring at the bruises on her arms.

“It was an altercation” Alia simply explains “He held me by the shoulders” She seems to snap out of her shock briefly as her pupils retracted “Dr. Elliot” She clarifies “, he said I shouldn’t make promises to patients. We are not God” Alia adds and takes a labored breath “He’s right, oh God. I k-killed her.”

She is shaking under the running water. All of the skin on her face turns as red as a carmine and her nose shines with inflammation. She hasn't stopped crying. Jason has never seen her cry before.

It drives him crazy to see her cry. What a terrible feeling. He wants to rip whatever guilt Alia is carrying and wipe her off the map. Put her on a place where no one can reach her.

Protect her. Jason wants to protect her.

He has been foolish to think that the two of them could live a quiet life in Gotham without taking extra precautions. Whatever happened, Alia had been deeply affected.

Protect or hide, what was the difference? Jason remembers the calculating plans Bruce has for every situation. Control and safety above all else, even freedom.

Calm, he has to calm himself down. As much as he wants to, he can't wrap Alia in a bubble just to keep her safe.

“He shoulda been more careful, munchkin” Jason says after a brief moment of silent reflection “He’s stronger than you”

The words seem to deeply affect her as she closes her eyes and starts to breathe shallowly. She shakes furiously. It looks like the start of a panic attack.

“People don’t know what it feels like” Alia whispers under her breath “To have someone ribs break under your hands. Their limbs go limp”

It’s a good thing she is talking, Jason thinks. At least she is down the earth enough to notice he is still there. When Jason panic, the line between memories and real life gets really blurry really quick.

“Her mom was screaming. Blood curling screams.” Alia tells him “I could hear her in the O.R. I’ve never seen someone with so many wounds. Her skin got stuck in my gloves.”

That memory seems to awake something horrible inside Alia’s mind as she gets the sponge nearest to her and starts to brush her skin with such ferocity it turns red almost immediately. The movements are so sudden and harsh that her brassier gets unbuttoned and her socks move around.

“Don’t”

Jason promptly interrupts her. He holds her hands with just enough pressure to make her stop. He is unable to keep watching her hurting without intervene.

“Her blood is in me” Alia cries “I am not clean. I d-don’t –She’s not… I am not clean. Not clean. Not cl-”

Her words are barely understandable. She tries to keep moving her hands. Sponge still tightly pressed inside her fingers. She is disoriented, blinking at him with nothing but blackness behind her extended pupils.

“Let me help you then” Jason pleads her “, please”

She nods, softly releasing the sponge that Jason catches with his free hand. It’s made from such a delicate material, like some sort of cotton. It makes Jason realized how much pressure Alia was brushing her own skin with.

For a moment that lasts minutes, Jason traces Alia’s skin with that same sponge and just a tiny bit of soap. None of them talk. She is sobbing profusely and he caresses her at the best of his capacities.

Never in his life Jason has been so carefully with anyone but her. His beaten-up hands are drawing circles around her skin.

Alia closes her eyes. This time she seems more appalled. Her fingers get to Jason’s own hand with an only touch.

“I promised the mom that Karenina would come out. Not walking, not dancing but she would make it out alive”

It’s a confession full of pain. She opens her eyes to look at him with the saddest look on her face.

“Jason, I really believed I could help her”

The water pressure drops as Jason turns off the regulator. There is a bottle of chamomile shampoo in the corner of the tub. He takes a single pump of the product and applies it to Alia’s hair. The foam that begins to form is grayish and thick. Typical residue generated by street pollution.

“He dismissed me for the day” Alia adds “. Told me some harlequin is back in the city. She was the one to attack Karenina” She says “Dr. Elliot told me to call you and not to not be alone”

Jason feels his own heart stop inside his chest as he hears her words. It has been a really, really long time since he had heard that name.

One of Alia’s hand, the one that has remained closed against her chest during the whole episode, stretches out to him.

Handed up, the symbol inside Alia’s palm is a small, signature pin Jason could not forget even if he tried to do it.

JOKES ON YOU BATS  : )

“You can stay at the Mansion.” Jason hurriedly tells her. For a brief moment he lingers, not wanting to make Alia panicked worse “Alfred will be pleased to be in your company” He adds “Or, uh… You can stay at my place. If you want to, obviously.”

Inside the bathtub, she looks smaller than normal. Much more vulnerable. The usual Alia, although very short in height, always carried some magnificent aura around her. She is always as bright as the sun with a mind sharper than any other Jason knows.

This Alia has been crying nonstop for God knows how long and she already seems way too tired. Like she can barely stay awake.

“I’m going to stay here” she answers “I don’t think I want to come out. Ever”

Her skin is wrinkling because how long she has been inside cold water, but it seems to make her feel much more comfortable with her anxiety. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her to come out and rethink her decision more carefully.

Would it change something? Alia doesn’t have any idea who Harley Quinn is nor what her arrival to Gotham’s public scenario truly means.

“Don’t you worry then, munchkin” Jason replies, trying to sound as calmed as possible to not showcase his inner rage “We’ll fix your apartment to make it safer and I’ll drive you to work. What do you think?”

It is the best plan he can quickly mutter. All he thinks about are fragments of his own fragmented past. His body wants to shiver, he hopes Alia doesn’t realize it.

“Joke’s on ya’ dear Batman” Joker whispered against Jason’s ears. His spit wetted Jason’s tattered skin. How long had he been captive? An hour, two? He didn’t feel his legs. His face tingled…

Alia’s voice takes him out of his memories. Jason shakes his head, in a futile attempt to keep the bad memories to distract him for the present. There are more urgent things to take care of.

“Yeah” she quietly answers “, it sounds nice Jay”

Alia stays inside the water in silence until she falls asleep with her head afloat. Jason stays at her side the whole three hours until she wakes up. Then, they have dinner together and everything feels normal again. Alia laughs freely and she looks so much more relaxed when Jason jokes around to keep her entertained.

That same night, Red Hood visits Dr. Thomas Elliot.

He is smoking a cigarette, checking the news on his phone. The navy-blue scrub he is wearing rests wrinkled over his belly. Red Hood has seen him before, on his multiple nights following Alia’s footsteps but never this close.

Thomas Elliot is a few inches shorter than him and he must be around the same age as Bruce, although he has much more wrinkles and gray hair than Jason’s father. Red Hood watches him in the shadows, taking mental notes of all the information he can gather around: His body language, the micro expressions on his face, each of the posts he likes.

When he has had enough, Red Hood comes out of the shadows. Thomas Elliot almost faints on the spot. He looks so much shier than what Alia previously described to him. All women beaters behaved the same, he thinks. They are all so brave only when they think they have all the power.

Red Hood knows he has that effect to people. They cower at his presence. He tries to be friendly with civilians whenever possible, but this is the man that made his girl cry, not only that, he also hit her.

The sun is almost out. Thomas Elliot presses his back against the wall behind him when Red Hood leans on to talk:

“You wanna see what I can get done in a whole night?”

Chapter Text

Dick Grayson has not properly met Jason’s soulmate except for the brief interaction they had in a crime alley.

Imagine the surprise on Bruce’s face when, upon knocking on the door at Alia’s apartment, the person who answers at the entrance is none other than his first child

“Hey B!”

Dick looks the same as the last time Bruce had seen him, a couple of months ago when Batman requested his help for a particularly complex chase with the Penguin.

Sadly, Dick is no longer able to visit Gotham as frequently as Bruce would like. His responsibilities in Bludhaven grew at the same rate as his age. They are the reason why Richard Grayson only keeps in touch with his family through text messages and increasingly sporadic visits.

He also is a recently engaged man with a fiancée of his own that keeps him very busy. Dick is no longer the scared boy he had once been. Under Bruce's uneven tutelage, he grew into a brave man with intense moral values.

With a flirtatious nature and a cheerful personality, Dick always looks out for the good of others before his own. He is a good man. Despite all his occupations, he is still that boy who loves his family above anything else.

Seeing him there is a surprise that fills Bruce with joy, although he wished they have seen each other under different circumstances.

It would always be good to see his oldest son. Especially on days like those, when Gotham's calm hangs on by a thread that grows thinner every second.

Batman's investigations suggested traces of suspicious activity in different parts of the city, at strategic times on a same night.

They attacked the theater where the charity event that Bruce and Selina attended took place. They attacked the highway next to Damian's drawing academy. They hit the shooting range Cassandra frequented and the rehab ward where Duke's parents resided.

It was just a few of the dozens of points around the city where terrorist events had been recorded some nights ago but it seemed to indicate a pattern.

The attacks only keep growing with each night that passed by.

Bruce does not want to let his paranoia sway his better judgment, but the whole story about the patient Alia treated and her Joker pin feels way too obvious to him. It is all too coincidental to be random events.

“He’s really stressed,” Dick whispers to Bruce before he walks through the apartment’s entrance.

Entering Dr. Gomez' small home, Bruce agrees with the words of his oldest son.

At first, when he received Jason's request, Bruce brushed it off thinking his son wanted an extra pair of hands while fixing Alia's apartment. He thought it was a very good step into mending their relationship even more —There seemed to be nothing more precious to Jason than his soulmate and the fact he personally asked Bruce for help made things feel like his boy still took his expertise in consideration when dealing with the most important things to him.

He was wrong, Bruce quickly realizes as he notices with amusement that it is an impromptu family reunion.

Piled into a couple of sofas that were way too small for such broad men, the analytic gaze of all his sons falls upon Bruce.

“Great! We’re all here,” Jason says, without even greeting him. “I needed the extra hands.”

Bruce had some idea of ​​how much Jason cares for his soulmate, even if the boy isn't particularly talkative about it.

Not too many words are needed, Bruce knows his son.

Jason has always been an essentially whole-hearted person with those he loves (Bruce remembers with incredible affection the time where Jason was a newly adopted child discovering how to adapt to his new lifestyle and he managed to gift him a craft he made by himself on Bruce's birthday).

Watching how he behaves when someone as precious to him as Alia enters the equation is just equally special.

Bruce respects Alia. The analysis of her behavior and personality showed him that she is a woman with an established moral code and very clear guidelines for her lifestyle. Bruce liked the mechanical discipline with which she fulfills her routine and her always exposed curiosity to acquire as much knowledge as possible.

In a way, the girl even reminds Bruce of himself.

Alia and her orderly, solitary lifestyle, focused on advancing her studies and helping people, in a city as big and chaotic as Gotham —She reminds Bruce of his younger years, before he met Selina and his boys.

Before he started his own family.

Family. Jason’s bright green eyes show him his concern. That is why Bruce is there. He doesn’t have any particular expression on his face beyond a frown, but Jason’s eyelids droop over his eyes in a micro expression that denotes nervousness.

“I brought some things.”

The plan is to adapt Alia's apartment to prevent any possible security breaches that compromised the girl, for the peace of mind of Jason (And the rest of the family, truth be told).

Another close call to home would only disperse them further.

Fortunately, Alia’s place is in a good part of the city. A primarily residential development far away from Gotham’s downtown. Mostly young graduates starting their corporate careers and a handful of forty-somethings who want to maintain the impression that they would always be young live there.

This is a relatively out-of-the-ordinary activity, since Alia is aware of Jason's plans to increase the security of her home although Bruce highly doubts that she knows the magnitude of the modifications his son plans to do.

Motion sensors, heat sensors. Electromagnetic locks for the windows that could be manipulated remotely. Multiple panic buttons. A new state-of-the-art lock for the front door and the bedroom door. Ultra-sensitive cameras for the hall.

He isn't particularly bothered by Jason's ideas, however. Bruce understands the feeling of paranoid madness Jason is experiencing all too well.

Joker's return has haunted him for the past 19 days and 500 nights.

Countless hours spent tracking every trace of malicious activity. Monitoring his stay at Arkham Asylum. Thousands of schemes hatched. Nothing seems to calm the apprehension that Bruce's greatest fear would somehow manage to get past his maximum-security confinement.

Damian rocks Dominicus, Bruce’s youngest son, in his arms.

It is still hard to look at that baby even after so many months. The boy is a reminder that, once again, Bruce allowed Talia to overpower him.

Dominicus is still an infant but he is already beginning to become such an energetic child. He had only taken his first steps a few months ago as Bruce was informed but he already has the confidence to allow himself to run clumsily around the room by trying to escape his brother's arms.

“Let him walk Damian. He’s bored” Tim says out loud.

Even after all of his mistakes, Bruce has somehow managed to raise four men that share a bond stronger than anything he known in his life. Brothers. Not by blood but by something deeper than that.

Bruce's heart fills with warm as he watches how much they care for each other, even if he himself is unable to express the same feeling out loud.

Love and concern are the only pertinent reasons for the five of them being in that tiny living room to begin with.

Jason asked for their help, all of them. Something that rarely happened before, especially when it concerns a subject as sensitive to him as the recent attacks to the city. And they all answered to his call dutifully.

The bunny gifted by Alia’s father is a small little creature, Jason calls her Goody.

It seems they allow it to run freely around Alia’s apartment as it jumps out to reach Dominicus once Damian lets him on the ground to play with some colorful toys he outwardly have brought for his youngest brother.

The small animal sniffs Dominicus’s hands with curiosity.

“Be careful, Domi” Jason tells to the baby.

Although Bruce himself is not particularly fond of the baby as he is to his other children, he appreciates the caring relationship that the others built with him.

At no point has Dominicus been set aside from the rest by his much older siblings. Unlike Bruce and the others, the child is being raised in a loving family.

Damian is Dominicus’ main caretaker but the other three also take into the mission to become some sort of uncle figures to the child. And there is Akiko who always seems so happy to help out with the baby. All family members are overwhelming involved in raising the kid except for Bruce, even with his best efforts.

It truly takes a village, Bruce thinks.

As Dominicus’ tries his best to listen to his uncle Jason and pet the bunny with the maximum amount of gentleness a baby that young can give, Dick clears his throat.

“This is an easy task, Jason. Even for you” He jokes “I think we should really address the elephant on the room”

That attitude is not improper for Dick. Ever since the younger ones came into the family, Dick has taken onto the role of the conciliatory older brother. Even in the family's worst times, he strives to face problems head on to minimize complications. Far away is that young boy who was an absolutely menace for everyone. It is something Bruce deeply respects about his oldest son.

Dick has grown up to become such an emotionally intelligent man, who has the tools necessary to deal with personal situations in the most optimal way —Bruce is not able to say the same about himself, as he has never been one to talk about his personal things.

Four years ago, it would have been unthinkable of some situation that led to Jason asking for help from any of them.

After the situation with Joker, the relationship between them had been deeply affected —So much so that Bruce feared they would never be able to mend it.

They do not have a splendid relationship yet, that is clear. It has improved gradually but even at the point of progress they are at; it is odd that Jason called all four of them together that day.

“I-I…” Jason stutters “I don’t want them to get to her”

He has his gaze downcast, looking away from them, seeming to be solely focused on Domi and Goody, who have already reached a truce and are happily sniffing each other.

Fear is a major component for all of them. At the end of the day, it is what drove all of them to act.

In the past, the only thing Jason would have done in the face of the Joker's possible return was to perform a deep clean-up of criminals in Crime Alley. He would have investigated (with those unorthodox means that Bruce disapproved of) until he would have obtained enough information on who worked for the Joker and what possible allies he had.

“They won’t. Joker is still on Arkham. I checked it myself this morning.” Bruce says “, but we can’t never be too trustful around the matter. We have to keep an eye on him”

The cloudy expressions on his children's faces let Bruce know that they are all processing his words. He knows that most of them would find the information he provided insufficient but his children are also aware that they are not in the best place to delve into details.

Even in Alia's quiet college neighborhood, there could be ears and eyes everywhere.

Jason had nothing to lose before. He knew that any of them were fully capable of defending themselves. They all had previous experience dealing with the crime clown.

Things are different now.

Alia, while clever and brave, is still a civilian and Jason loves her so obviously that it makes Bruce ache that they aren't nothing official yet. Jason adores that girl to the extend he left his own ego aside to make sure she can be in the safest environment possible.

It is inevitable that Jason sickly worries about her with the rising wave of violence brewing in the bowels of the city. A situation like that has the means to explode at any moment if they are not able to solve the crime clown's machinations before they carry out to the public.

Something Batman would definitely not allow.

Jason raises his head after a moment of reflection to look directly at Bruce.

“If he gets free, I’ll kill him”

Silence fills the room. On the floor, Domi and Jason's pet bunny are playing chase.

“He won’t”

The significance in his words is palpable. Bruce knows that he would rather die than make the same mistake twice. Even if he is not the best father in the world. He would not let his children get their hands dirty again with matters that are his responsibility alone.

“Joker has done it before” Damian adds, a serious frown covering over his emerald eyes “He knows who we are.”

How could he forget it? The episode in which his children's identities had almost been discovered by the criminal clown tormented Bruce for a long time. Six years seven months and thirty days have passed since that terrible event, and even in the present, Bruce keeps having nightmares in which the feeling of unease makes he feel pure desperation.

In his dreams, everyone dies. The knowledge of their secret identities is a theory that they as a family handled. Nothing concrete. But they cannot be too cautious.

“How long it is going to take before he decides to do something directly against us, just to get to you?” Damian asks.

Getting under Batman's skin seems to be the favorite pastime of the Joker.

Getting under Bruce's skin is Damian's personal mission.

His youngest son sits with his arms crossed in the only single chair in Alia's living room. His brow is furrowed and his hair is slightly disheveled.

He too has a lot to lose, despite being so young.

Damian has his own version of a family. He feels an affinity for Dominicus that Bruce himself doesn’t quite understand. Then there is also Akiko who is just a teenager herself too but is really determined to share their own resemblance of a family.

“We are going to handle this properly before it gets out of hand” Bruce answers.

All he can do at that point is try to reassure them with his words. The effort feels futile in a way. Words can't make anyone forget the pain of the past. Words can't prevent their most intrinsic fear to get afloat.

“We should take the girls out of Gotham until we get this problem handled out" Tim suggests “They are civilians and could be clear targets. It's easy to get to them. Akiko’s barely old enough to have a driver’s license”

Damian rolls his eyes and snorts. It isn’t uncommon for the boys to mess up with him about their age. He isn’t particularly a fan of his family babying him and his soulmate.

“She’s a pilot”

“It sums to my case: They have valuable skills for any scheme. They do not have the training required to resist any kind of manipulation and they are also super clueless about the true dangers of the city” Tim says “Think about it for a second: Akiko can fly anything with two wings on it and Alia is the youngest student with over 200 IQ points in the city.”

It is a good point, Bruce thinks. He already went through those aspects of the situation —While his daughters-in-law possess little knowledge in fighting, they both have meritorious assets in very diverse fields that few individuals have.

With the proper training, they both could be very useful. Bruce goes over a mental list he has done in his head.

Black hair? ✅ for both of them.

Blue eyes? ✅ for Alia. Akiko has black eyes but they match the aesthetic anyway.

Dead parents? ❌ they both have lovely families but Bruce can work with that.

“If things go south” Bruce says, carefully modulating his voice tone “They both can be useful for”

Jason and Damian both look at him as he has gone insane.

“Absolutely no”

“That is totally forbid”

Damian doesn’t play about Akiko. In no way. Neither does Jason with Alia. They both seem to share that unconditional need to guard their girls. Even disregarding the huge contribution that both of them could make, given an extreme situation.

Bruce doesn’t share that kind of need with his own soulmate. Not exactly. Selina is fierce and perfectly able to protect herself (To be honest, Bruce tried in multiple opportunities to apply his own version of protection and miserably failed but that is a tale for another occasion).

“I insist” Tim reiterates “We should take them out of the city”

Jason shakes his head.

“Alia is never gonna agree to it” He says “She didn’t wanna move out of this place because it’s closer to the hospital and she can get there quicker when she’s on call”

Bruce respects Alia’s work ethic deeply and nods while hearing Jason’s words. Tim snorts as he just heard the craziest thing ever.

“She’s bold”

Jason seems profusely offended. He frowns at his younger brother and puts a hand over his chest.

“She is very passionate about her work!”

Dick lets out a sarcastic laugh and Damian squeaks at their brothers’ starting fight.

“Stop” Bruce tells his kids “We will approach this matter as a family back in the house. I will canalize the situation carefully and I will let you know what our next steps are going to be.” He adds “Let’s get into this work. We must get finished before Alia comes home”

The boys listen and accept his words.

With the matter closed, they quickly distributed the devices to be installed in order to carry out the work as efficiently as possible: Tim would be in charge of placing the sensors and cameras. Damian would put the electromagnetic closures to work. Dick and Jason would place the panic buttons throughout the building and Bruce would put the locks on the main doors.

And of course, Domi would entertain Goody and Goody would entertain Domi.

While the others begin with the modifications, Jason approaches him, putting a hand over Bruce's shoulder. It feels strange to him to realize that the one who once had been his little boy is now the same height and robust build as himself.

“I’m serious about it, Bruce”

“I know”

Chapter Text

Jason is holding a whimpering Domi in his arms. His multiple attempts to calm him down were futile.

After forty-five minutes of uninterrupted play with Goody, the baby boy tried to bite one of the bunny's ears out of curiosity and Damian lost his temper in a rather exaggerated way.

Goody hadn't even been too bothered. She simply kicked the baby with her soft paws and, as soon as Damian started to make a fuss, she run away jumping to take refuge under one of the dining room chairs.

Now, Jason Todd is carrying the baby boy inside his hand-free Mei Tai to prevent his younger brother from scolding him.

Damian is known for being especially gentle with animals. If there is one thing he can't stand, is aggression towards them under any circumstances, even a gentle three-tooth bite for childish research.

Maybe Jason could be a bit of a permissive uncle figure, Dick thinks.

Aren't they all? The only subtle resemblance to a figure who imposes rules and limits on the infant is Damian himself, but he is a 16-year-old former teenage assassin who didn't always know middle grounds.

According to Dick's calculations, they already had more than thirteen buttons installed but still need to do a few more. The panic buttons they are putting throughout the apartment are small and have a special technology that allows them to adapt their color to the surface they rest on to camouflage themselves.

Although thirteen buttons seem a bit excessive to him, Dick can understand Jason's excessive concern.

"How's Alia been?" Dick asks his brother.

Jason stops fiddling with the buttons that are still to be installed and looks at him frowning. Domi tries to reach one of the devices with his playful hands, but is unable to reach them through his uncle's huge torso.

The Joker has not yet made his first public appearance yet but Harley Quinn already took it upon herself to announce his return. Her terrorist acts throughout the city indicated nothing but the beginning of a great nightmare for everyone.

It must have been a horrible situation for him. After so many years, of both family and internal struggles and the beginning of a new, peaceful chapter for him...

Hell, they reached the point where he and Bruce sat at the same table at Thanksgiving dinner.

And now they are reappearing. After getting his life and his family together, the person responsible for Jason’s dead is back.

Dick hopes that everything isn’t lost yet. He trusts in the mental strength his little brother acquired over the years although the future predicted trouble, undoubtedly.

Koriand'r insisted on accompanying him as soon as he received Jason's message.

His little brother and his fiancée have always been like-minded regarding the whole Joker issue and in general, they get along very well.

Dick gave up on the idea because he feared that if the Joker or Harley Quinn were even close to either of them, Starfire would annihilate them with an energy blast without a second thought.

And who could stop Batman after that?

Dick loves Bruce like a father, but he is also aware that this obsessive mania of fulfilling his personal oath not to kill is not that of a normal person.

Dick follows the same code, of course, most of the time. But he knows that it is more of a suggestion in very certain situations.

He knows his father well enough to understand that this rule is simply the only way he has to stop himself from doing crazy things. Self-control above all else. The Joker situation is the ultimate exponent of that.

If the Joker dies, as much as that would relieve them all, it would awaken a murderous force in Batman that would be even more difficult to stop.

Superman himself noticed that and had secretly confessed it to Dick. Clark told him that he was the one who stopped Batman from killing Joker after Jason's death out of fear of what that murder would do to Batman's fragmented mind.

"She's... uh, good" Jason answers after a while "She still cries sometimes and also she pick a lot of extra shifts at the hospital but she's okay most of the time"

He looks at the floor, thinking.

"She doesn't know what this meant yet." Jason adds "I don't know how to tell her".

Dick knows that in the right pocket of his pants, Jason keeps the bloody pin that Alia showed him the night of the incident. He also knows that this pin is what had unsettled him the most.

Some way or another, they managed to pass the message to them through his soulmate.

Even if it is a mere coincidence, Alia has been involved, and that has made Jason so paranoid that he put his ego aside to summon them all to her apartment to help him keep her safe.

Jason loves her. There is no doubt about it. More than adoring her, he genuinely loves her. He has respected her decision not to move to a place within the family's control. Instead of forcing her (as Bruce surely would have done), Jason set out to make the place as safe as possible so that both Alia and he would have peace of mind.

There is this small matter of it being an uninformed decision, yes, but that isn't an easy truth to tell either, Dick supposes. Explaining to a young doctor the mystical technicalities of resurrection is an exotic task to say the least. Not to mention the fact that Jason would also have to tell her about everything leading up to that event.

However, the truth could protect her far more than any amount of gadgetry would.

"I think it's a good idea to tell her. For both of you" Dick tells his brother "She's not made of sugar, Jason"

With all the pieces of the puzzle, Alia can take informed decisions. Move through the city more cautiously and avoid dangerous situations —They are talking about the same girl who jumped onto an unknown Red Hood to help him in the middle of the night in a dark alley (Not to mention that at that moment Alia was walking alone to the parking lot a block away to get to her car. Which, to the whole family, especially Akiko and Alfred, was crazier).

Preventing herself from getting into those situations could protect her more than having Jason watching over her neck at every possible moment.

"I know" Jason confesses “But I don’t want to disturb her worse. She’s barely getting any sleep nowadays. At this rate, she’s gonna get burned out anytime soon”

The look on Jason's face is one of distress. His eyes are sunken and there are dark circles under them.

Dick doesn't know much about Alia, only what he'd heard from the other members of her family, but he supposes that one positive thing about her not knowing the full truth is that it can't torment her.

By that point, Dick is only really worried about his little brother.

“She seems like a strong girl. Maybe a little impulsive but I’m sure she can bear it” Dick tells him, patting on his shoulders “How are you feeling?”

Jason looks back at his brother.

“I-I… I’m worried. That’s all”

Jason might be able to lie to a lot of people, but not to Dick. Not to the one who taught him his best patrol moves. Not to the one who has always protected him as best as he could. Not to this brother.

“You really care about her”

“Shouldn’t I?” Jason asks “That’s the whole deal with a soulmate”

“No. It’s not” Dick answers “You’re even driving straight. Using a car!” He laughs out loud “I didn’t think you’d able to drive anything without crashing”

“Hey!” Jason says “A car is safer”

“She’s not made of sugar, Jason. I think she’d enjoy a ride on your bike” Dick says “You love your bike. You don’t have to change it all for her”

Jason is silent for a minute, as if reflecting on his words.

“You really stepped up your game since you’ve a fiancée” Jason jokes.

Fiancée. A new term to define Dick’s beautiful soulmate. Hearing it from another's lips makes nervousness flutter inside Dick. Their wedding is scheduled for the end of next year, but he can barely contain his excitement at joining his life with Kori's.

If he lets his mind wander long enough, Dick could imagine what the future held for them: Dark-skinned children with black hair and green eyes, or perhaps with the same wild, shiny hair as his fiancée. They would have two girls and a boy. And a German Shepherd. They could also get a Golden Retriever. One dog per child sounds like a fair acquisition.

“What can I say? Being engaged changes your perspective” Dick tells him with a smile “Also you’re like really bad at flirting”

The days when they had both been children were long gone, but Jason is still too shy about that kind of things.

“I swear I’m trying my best” Jason says “It’s hard to tell what she wants from me”

Dick hits his brother in the back and Jason lets go the buttons in his hands. They fall to the floor. Domi laughs at the movement.

“You’re really stupid. Damian told me you’ve been distracted but I seriously didn’t think it was this much” He voices to his brother “Jason, what games are you playing?”

Dick can’t believe this is the same man that killed an entire mob group in a single night.

“What woman invites you and your whole family for thanksgiving if she doesn’t feel anything for you?”

“I’m her soulmate” Jason reiterates “That’s kinda the whole deal”

Dick frowns. The urges of hitting his brother as hard as he can are overpowering his good sense of mind.

“Jason.” Dick severs “You went over to her family’s farm with flowers. Her father gave you a bunny. Is that also part of the soulmates deal?”

Goody hops around the apartment. Her trust regained since Damian’s shouts calmed off. Her red eyes examine the room around her with blankness.

“Fuck” Jason realizes

Finally realizes.

“What am I supposed to tell her? Be my girlfriend?” Jason jokes “Also, there’s this small detail when at fifteen I kinda died and then got resurrected by Damian’s psychotic mother and I went insane into a killing spree that lasted years and I still do it sometimes?”

“That for starters”

“Dick, she cried for hours when one of her patients who had like 0.5% chance of survival died” Jason continues “I don’t think she’s gonna approve of my way to handle things”

“Try it” Dick says “tell her the truth. Eventually you’d have to do it anyway”

As Dick puts the last of the whole twenty panic buttons, they had brought to install around the places, he watches his little brother fight himself mentally.

“You can’t hold information like that forever.” Dick adds “The closer you two get, the harder it’s going to be. You don’t want to upset her -Which is what it’s going to happen is she discovers it by someone else”

“We don’t have to get closer” Jason says “I can just make sure she’s okay while she’s here in Gotham and then when she graduates, she can move out to anywhere else”

They are renovating her whole apartment on a Sunday evening for free and Jason is talking about letting her move out?

“Seriously?” Dick asks “And you’re going to be okay with her living across the country just because you can’t deal with the truth?”

Jason loves Dick, but sometimes he can get a little dismissive. He takes that from Bruce.

“Are you okay with the idea of Alia being with someone else?” Dick asks “You don’t know how she’d be treated in that scenario. Can you protect her then?”

 Jason stays silent. His frown grows deeper as time passes. It is notoriously that he doesn’t like that idea. Not for a bit. Dick doesn’t know if it because of Alia’s imaginary partner or someone messing up with her without Jason being able to interfere.

“I can keep an eye over her” Jason fumbles “She always tells me what she does. I know exactly where she is at any time.”

Dick laughs off. If he knows anything about her future sister-in-law, is that she isn’t the type to be easily track off. Even for them. Alia is always moving, doing God knows what while treating people.

“Yeah? Is that so?”

“Yeah!” Jason exclaims “She’s at the clinic right now. She’s gonna be there for the next three and a half hours”

Just because Jason is able to track her schedule doesn't mean he can really keep an eye on her.

Almost as if they'd read Dick's thoughts, a female figure walks into the room, Tim hanging on her hip like a child (It is no secret that ever since she'd tended to his wounds that first time -and every time after that- Tim has grown especially fond of her).

“Hey!” Alia brightly smiles at them “I figure you must be tired from the work done so I got off earlier and bought dinner for all of us. I hope you liked sushi!”

Dick laughs as hard as he can.

Chapter Text

Damian fairly likes romance.

He is not that much of a romance enjoyer in media but he likes real life romance just about enough. Romance movies are more of Akiko’s taste and they watch some of them together from time to time. Damian rather prefers to experience it firsthand.

Sure, Akiko and him do kiss from time to time but he does not consider himself to be especially romantic. It is just something they do when they both felt like it. It surely does not make him blush hard nor it leads to him thinking about it for days on. Not at all.

As he finishes to install the electromagnetic closures on the last windows, he watches Alia and Jason get closer in the tiny kitchen hall. It is just after when the rest of the family have finished eating the meals Alia brought for them. Piles of dishes loading up the kitchen sink and semi-loaded glass of waters, Damian could see them from his privileged point of view.

They seem to believe no one watches them. Father is long gone after excusing himself during dinner and Dick and Tim went outside to dispose the rest of materials they did not use. Only Damian stayed behind to finish up his work. He hates to be the last one to finish but his pride could not let him go without completing the task assigned.

Domi sleeps in the couch, after tirelessly getting on Damian’s nerves. He loves that kid but his mere existence puts Damian’s sanity on a string. No one warned him how difficult toddlers are. He thought the baby stage was the hardest. He was wrong.

The magnetic click on the last closure alerts Damian that his job is finished as Jason leans over Alia. Damian thinks they are going to kiss for a second and he is about to cringe but surprisingly they are… dancing?

He could not remember for his life of a time where he has seen Jason Todd dancing. Especially without any music. None that Damian can hear.

Jason is a particularly enemy of dance halls and he rarely ever interacted with anyone those times they have to attend to Wayne’s parties or any charity galas. Women always flicker their eyes to him, but Jason is really against interacting in general.

Damian likes to dance. But not the modern kind of music where people agitate their bodies against each other. He likes the softer rhythms and slower pace. Mother taught him to dance with elegance and grace when he was younger. They used to practice a lot. Almost as much as they practiced with the sword. Mother used to say controlling one’s movements was as important in the dance floor as it was on a fight. It also helped him to better balance his weight during combat.

Akiko is too shy to even try it. Her movements are stiff. Her feet always confuse the pace. She blushes and mumbles inconsistencies the whole time they practice but she holds some sort of grace into herself. It was lovely to watch for Damian. He enjoys the girl’s company far more than he would like to admit.

Their practices are nothing like what he is seeing that night. Whatever Jason tries to do with his body, it is far from graceful. He bounces his arms around his body and moves his head weirdly. The only thing Damian can see from his point of view is Alia’s back, but by the look of her movements, she is laughing at Jason.

Damian fairly likes Alia.

She is by far Akiko’s favorite, to be honest. The two of them became friends throughout the months. Damian is content with the fact. Akiko does not have a lot of friends outside her flight club as she does not get along with her classmates at all. Most of the club members are old retired veterans and she is always complaining that usually are not up for her plans to go over to watch those romance movies she enjoys (Yes, that was the main reason why Damian ended up in a movie theater watching a relaunching of The Notebook three times in the same week).

The two girls usually enjoy to go out for dinner and even have managed to plan a successful picnic together. Alia is happy driving Akiko around any time she asks for it and she always remembered her the importance of having a driver’s license for cars (Even though Akiko always says that she is perfectly pleased with just her airplanes).

Akiko’s mother, Ms. Natsuki, does not like Alia that much, but it is mainly because they as a family do not trust physicians at all. Although they tolerate the idea of Akiko going out more often.

Alia is a bit odd to Damian’s standards. She has something uncanny to her, like she is always forcing up a smile and she walks a strange way, like she has chronic pain on her legs. She bounces on her steps. But she is good. Friendly and approachable. A bit too manic if he has to be completely honest.

She has been a good influence to Jason so far. The man has stopped behaving like a feral raccoon and he makes Alfred thrilled just by visiting the Manor a lot more than ever before. Even Father has complimented the positive changes in Jason’s behavior.

It is the effect soulmates usually have on each other. Compliment and balance each personality to push them furthest from the extremes.

Where one is calmer, the other soulmate tends to be more upfront. Akiko and himself are the perfect example. Akiko is always really trusting with people, whereas Damian rather to be more cynical to anyone else. It is for the best of them.

Alia leans over and gets one of Jason’s hands in between her fingers. She rests her head over his chest. Jason seems perplexed for a bit but he bends down to put his chin over Alia’s forehead. He completely closes his eyes and lets out a soft murmur.

Their movements go slower with time. They are dancing to a tune Damian definitely cannot hear, if there is any at all.

Akiko would have absolutely adored the scene, had she been there. It is very much the kind of thing she would talk about non-stop. Damian is conflicted about how much he is always thinking about her, even when she is not around. They are a couple, sort of, but it is very difficult for him to accept how vulnerable she makes him feel.

Thoughts aside, Damian is not going to get himself into a lecture from Akiko that he knows would come along if he does not document that fundamental part of their weekly gossip for her.

Damian gets out his phone from his front pocket and clicks the camera icon to photograph the small moment between the two lovers as one of Jason’s hands falls over Alia’s hair strands that he twirls between his fingers.

Akiko and himself spent way too much time talking about when and where the two of them would finally admit they are crazy for each other. It is a common pep talk for her. She is really into making Alia admit they have at least kissed in those seven months they have known each other, but much to Akiko’s dismay, Alia always denies it.

Both tasks finally done, Damian gets down from the window corner he was modifying and goes over to get Domi up from the couch. The toddler moves around his arms sleepily, eyes half open, but he goes back to sleep placidly once he feels Damian’s familiar warmth.

Damian guesses it is better to not interrupt the couple’s little dance, so he and the baby carefully tucked between his arms, go outside the apartment to his car. Once inside, he texts Jason to let him know that the work is done and that they are heading home. He also texts his father to ask him if he has already gone out to patrol, but his phone appears to be off signal.

The drive home is peaceful. Domi sleeps all the time it takes to get to the Manor, calm and collected by the top-notch electric heather on the baby seat Jason gifted him a few months ago alongside the layers of winter clothes he wears to protect him from the harsh weather of those final months of the year.

Damian drives through the windy streets until he gets to the gates of their home, which greets him with familiarity.

Alfred Pennyworth stands outside the gigantic doors once he parked the car. The sensors at the entrance must have alerted him as he is standing still, dressed in his perfect three-piece tuxedo as always. He does not seem to be bothered by the cold weather.

“Alfred”

Damian has mastered the art of getting out of his car with a baby seat on one arm and a full baby on the other. Domi does not even flinch when he leaves his head fall over his caretaker’s shoulder.

“Master Damian, Master Dominicus” Alfred greets them “It is good to finally get you home” The old butler says “I believe you must be in the company of your father, is that correct?”

As they go inside, Damian takes off Domi’s scarf and takes off some snowflakes off his black hair strands. The teenager shakes his head in response.

“We are not, Alfred” He says “Father got off Alia’s apartment two hours ago. He said he would be coming home earlier to get enough sleep”

Alfred’s hands are crossed over his hips and he has a displeased expression in his face. It is a posture he often does when he tries to hide his nervousness.

“Sleep? That is an odd statement for him” Alfred says “Master Bruce never prioritizes sleep at all”

Damian puts his baby brother down on his crib and he makes sure to turn the lights off as they exit the bedroom.

“I believed it was a code for something Batman related” Damian points out “He is surely patrolling Gotham tonight. Surely I will catch up with him later.”

Alfred watches him with suspicion.

“I have a bad feeling” The old ma confesses “I hope it is just that, Master Damian. A bad gut” Alfred says “Let me know when you reach your father tonight”

Chapter Text

Tonight, they get to have a girl sleepover!

Akiko is really excited about it (Even if it isn’t at the best conditions possible). At least, she has to pretend to be excited.

She doesn't want to scare Domi any further. He is growing rather conscious of his dad’s disappearance.

Bruce isn’t the gentle dad he surely wishes to be, but he tries his best to be around Dominicus as much as he can. Between his work and patrol obligations he has little time, Akiko knows it, but the man does make some to be sure to have breakfast with Damian and Dominicus every morning.

A whole week has passed since Bruce went missing. Seven days with no reports of his whereabouts. Alarms went off on Gotham. It is just about time the criminal rates would start to spiral up on their own.

The family was going absolutely bat shit crazy.

Cassandra had gone back to being absolutely mute, only focusing on covering the most amount of land while on patrol without saying a single word. Barbara has not stopped checking camera footage from all of Gotham. Jason seems even more stressed than usual, more violent as well, more protective over all of them. Duke is doing way more patrol hours than usual. Stephanie tracks any and all suspicious activity. Tim is plotting every possible scenario. Dick has taken off Batman’s suit to cover up from Bruce.

Akiko hasn’t heard much about Damian since the last time they saw each other.

That night, he was wearing his full Robin suit while carrying Domi in his arms, something he rarely ever do. Damian always preferred to keep his youngest brother out of his superhero business.

He told her he was going to get busy until further notice. Damian said it was best for them to keep their distance. At least for a while. He commissioned her to take care of Dominicus for him. Something he almost never did. He said it was for the best. It really made Akiko worry. Damian always preferred to be with his baby brother at the end of the day no matter what situation they got themselves into.

But Bruce had disappeared in the middle of the night without letting a single trace behind in a peaceful night there wasn’t a single attack in the city. No terrorists either. Nothing. He just seemed to go off reach to any of them.

Akiko doesn’t really know what was the protocol for that scenario. Damian won’t just tell her everything about his line of work. Only the essentials.

She suspects they should be calling Superman or Wonder Woman anytime soon if they can’t clear the situation fast enough.

It was unfortunate that Akiko’s parents were out at duty when shit was hitting the fan. It is the thing with having flight attendants as parents, she supposes. And this is Gotham after all. A single disappearance won’t stop the city at all, even if it was a billionaire’s.

So there she is, waiting for Alia’s car to pull over at her high school, while carrying her sleepovers bags. She is staying at Alia’s until her parents get back in town. It’s only for five days until they return from their flights scheduled to England and back.

Alia’s home is the safest place to be at the moment -Given that the Manor is super busy being a fortress of sleep deprived psychotic people whose paranoid grow bigger with every second it passes.

Akiko’s parents were afflicted when they heard about Bruce’s disappearance, but they assured her that everything would be solved out quickly.

Maybe he just wanted to have a little breakaway with some lover and didn’t let any of them knew in advance, they said.

Akiko’s parents fucking hate Bruce. They idolized Damian and think highly of him, but Akiko’s parents believe Bruce Wayne is the worse person in the whole world by letting the responsibility of raising a little baby fall into the shoulders of a just teenager as Damian is.

They have this image in their minds of Bruce being a reckless billionaire that care little about his children. Maybe they aren’t so wrong.

Her parents always chip out and helped Damian in any way they could. They love Dominicus and are the happiest when he comes over. They gave advice to her soulmate on how to change diapers in the cleanest way possible, how to navigate tantrums and manage time on a tight schedule.

They always include Damian and Domi on all their family plans. The both of them have grown closer to Akiko’s parents than she would have once expected. She is sure her parents feel that Damian and Domi are just like the sons they didn’t have. Akiko is their only child, and they have always wished they could’ve had more kids.

It is cute, but a bit weird too. Her parents aren’t soulmates, so maybe they don’t quite understand the feeling Damian and Akiko share.

It is a bit of a taboo to marry someone who you aren’t destined to be with, but it works just fine for them. Her mom’s soulmate died many years ago, long before Akiko was even born, and her dad won’t meet his soulmate for another twenty years.

They met, they felt in love, they married. Both of them look pretty happy with their arrangement.

Akiko knows her parents are longing to get back to her as soon as they can but the hourly pay on their contracts was just way too good to decline it. Her flying hours are not going to pay for themselves. And they won’t allow the Waynes to help them pay for it.

They all are too proud for it.

Alia’s blue car rolls down a window to face her. In the back seat, Domi cheers when he sees Akiko, stretching out his little arms to try to get to her.

“Hi girl” Alia greets her once she gets inside the car “How was school?”

Terrible, but Akiko doesn’t have the heart to tell Alia she is her only friend and that she was biting her nails during all lessons because she entered a self-induced anxiety state by letting her thoughts run wild.

“It was good” She answers “I got an 89 in my Chem test”

The paper test is crumpled between her fingers. Akiko smiles at Alia, who is wearing some pink scrubs that match the cover for her car’s steering wheel.

Akiko gets to Domi who watches her with his big baby eyes from the back seat. He is wearing capri shorts alongside with a funny onesie that has a MAN OF THE HOUSE written in the middle.

It is a small favor, truly. The whole Wayne family is busy doing their dangerous business and Akiko really needed to take that test or else she was going to fail Chemistry. Alia was happy to comply. She said she only had a few queries to do and she was free for the day.

So Alia did brought Domi to her work, and he surprisingly looks really calm after it.

Maybe it is for the best. Maybe it isn’t that good that they guard the baby so much. The world won’t spontaneously explode if Domi gets in contact with other people aside from his close family.

Akiko doesn’t know how much Alia knows about the whole superhero stuff that the Wayne family got themselves into. Damian only told her that Alia knew Jason is Red Hood, Tim is Red Robin and Stephanie is Batgirl. She absolutely doesn’t know Bruce was Batman, much less about the others.

Alia was notified Bruce had disappeared. Does she know the implications behind it? Absolutely no. She boldly suggested they should report it to Gotham’s police.

Damian asked Alia to host them for some days until everything clears out. He told her they suspected it was a kidnapping for money and it was best for them to keep a low profile far away from any Wayne. Alia was okay with that idea.

Actually, she has been the calmest person at the whole situation so far. Maybe it’s because she doesn’t know the full extent of it. Akiko has never seen Jason hugging someone as long as he did when they said goodbye.

“Congratulations!” Alia cheers her “Chem was my favorite in high school. Do you like it?”

Like it? Akiko fucking hates chemistry. It is difficult. It is boring. The concepts are far too abstracts. Only a physician would say something that crazy.

“I like physics better” Akiko answers “It’s way more interesting. Sorry”

Alia gasps, seemingly offended but then she laughs off. Her nails are painted baby blue. Her hair is combed in beautiful curls. She wears soft makeup. She looks mesmerizing.

Akiko wants to be like her in some sense. She always looks so put together. So does Starfire, whom she hasn’t met in person yet, but she is an alien princess anyway. Then there are also Stephanie and Selina, who are all so incredibly beautiful on their own.

Akiko feels like an anomaly. Her curves haven’t quite developed yet and her hair gets greasy more often than she would like to admit. She feels inadequate. She is the youngest of them all, and they are all beautiful women that she absolutely feels like she can’t get on their level.

Her mom says she shouldn’t compare herself to women much older than herself, whom all have finished their puberty long ago but Akiko can’t help it. All Waynes are stripped out of a magazine cover as so are their soulmates. Damian is the prime example of that. He is a prince. Always collected. Always perfect. Who is she next to him?

“I was terrible at physics” Alia severs “I can’t figure equations out for the life of me”

Their conversation dies as Alia crosses to enter the highway that leads to her apartment complex. Her car roams. The road ahead is clear, only a few vehicles are ahead and some more behind of them

The speedometer starts to get higher and higher as they enter the highway with no reason for it. Alia frowns. Her hands are clenched around the pink steering wheel so hard that they turn a white color.

“What’s happening?” Akiko calls her “Slow down Alia. You’re scaring Domi”

The baby is starting to get agitated behind them but Alia doesn’t flinch at her words. She shakes her head off and deeply breathes. Alia doesn’t take her eyes off the road.

“The brakes aren’t working” Alia mutters between her clenched teeth “Is that car following us?”

There aren’t many details in that sentence, but it only takes Akiko a quick look in the rearview mirror to notice a red car tailgating them.

The car has its windows fully tinted. Akiko can’t get any clear view of its inside and the driver. It surely is suspicious it was just behind them when they are four more empty lanes to drive through.

They aren’t even in the main lane, simply an adjacent one.

Alia manages to change lanes with a brakeless car as it’s empty of other vehicles, still going in a higher speed than what Akiko would have like. It seems like the smartest move because it would lead to them getting closer to an outside lane that allows them to drive semi-safely until her car slows down by itself.

Nevertheless, that plan never happens as the red car behind them accelerates to change lanes and gets quickly behind them again.

“Yeah” Akiko whispers under her breath, suddenly realizing the depth of the situation “It’s following us.”

Everything goes too fast after she speaks that sentence.

The car hits them from behind in the blink of an eye. Akiko’s whole body shakes with a whiplash and her forehead hits the front glass. Her ears whistle. Domi cries in the background. The airbags activate with delay.

She tries to reach to unlock her seatbelt with trembling hands, but her fingers don’t have enough strength to do it. Her vision is getting fuzzier. Alia is mumbling something but Akiko can’t figure what it is. She pulls the seatbelt over her body but her gaze begins to turn black as her energy gravely deteriorates.

Akiko can only focus on Domi’s cries. He was in the backseat. They hit them from the back. Is he okay? He has to be okay. Akiko could calm him. She only needs to hold him. He has to be okay. Where is he? She needs to reach him. She can’t move. Is he okay? How bad Is it? Why was that seatbelt so heavy? Domi. He has to be safe.

“T-The bab-baby” Akiko mutters “Alia? Alia, the b-baby”

Akiko loses consciousness, not knowing if her baby is okay.

Chapter Text

Why I am here?

Alia loves cold. Alia loves new places. Alia loves lazily waking up anytime she has the chance

She definitely hates cold foreign rooms where she wakes up with a fuzzy head.

Maybe waking up isn’t exactly the word she should be using. Alia didn’t fully lose consciousness after the accident but she doesn’t fully remember all the details either.

It is more of a blink. One moment she is trying to recompose herself at her seat, the next moment someone is touching her. Big hands over her body. They carry her away.  A baby is crying, Alia later realizes is Dominicus. Then there is just blackness.

Shallow breaths. Hands. More hands. She can’t exactly recall what happens as she starts to experiment one of the worst debilitating headaches she has had in a long time. It is an excruciating kind of pain. She hit her head against the steering wheel. Her neck muscles hurt in concerning ways.

She feels hands over her the entire period up until they get her inside a cold foreign room.

“You aren’t one to talk, huh?” A gooey voice whispers behind her ear “A little birdie told me you love to tell stories”

Birds. Robins. Pale long fingers trace a path over her bare neck. The stiff fabric of one of her favorite scrubs does little to cover her freezing body. Alia remembers how pretty she felt that morning when she firstly put that pink scrub on. She couldn’t have guessed such a wild outcome for the day.

A warm sniff falls over her sensitive neckline.  It makes all the hairs on her body stand up, alerting her of stranger danger.

“Haven’t you heard who’s missing?” The voice talks again. This time, Alia recognizes it is a women’s voice “Bat’s out of town”

The famous Harley Quinn. A tall, blonde woman, with wild eyes and a wide smile.

She is the palest person Alia has ever seen in her entire life. The scariest one too. There is something uncanny about her.

Jason has told her about Harley Quinn, thought his stories didn’t make her any justice. He hadn’t gotten into many details, truth be told. He told her she was a crazy blonde terrorist and then profusely advised Alia that if Harley Quinn got any close to her, she should run as far as she could. Jason said he would handle the rest.

It would be difficult to follow his instructions at the moment thought. The room where she is in is pretty small and the door is shut. There are no windows. It looks like some sort of study room with a long corridor at one side.

The idea to run deeper into the unknown place doesn’t seem very attractive to Alia.

She looks at the women in silence. The couch where she is sitting feels soft against her skin but it doesn’t bring any comfort to Alia at the moment.

She supposes the women wants some sort of answer from her, but she can’t form any intelligent sentence out of her lips.

Bat and Birdies? It is pretty obvious she was talking about Batman and Robin, which is weird because as far as Alia knows Batman is very much active fighting crime at Gotham. It doesn’t make much sense. The Robin reference doesn’t make much sense either, because she has met a lot of superheroes in her time at Gotham, but that specific one she hasn’t had the chance to meet yet.

Maybe she got it all wrong. What did Harley Quinn mean? It has something to do with them. The superheroes. Had they got kidnapped as well? Everything happening at the same. Alia could bet Batman wouldn’t go down without putting a pretty epic fight, unlike herself.

How many men does she have under her thumb? It seems like a wild logistic movement.

“You have pretty eyes, doctor” Harley says “I bet Red Hood loves when you look at him like that”

 Fuck. That is all it is about? It could be a pretty good modus operandi. If she wants to get to know the man behind the mask, Alia could surely be one of the main targets to get to him. They used to meet at the same place at almost the same time every night. Maybe there is something more to it. Maybe Harley already knows about Jason’s identity?

No. Not just Harley. There are more people. At least another man. The hands that touched Alia were far too big to belong to the woman in front of her.

And she was not the only one caught. Akiko and Domi were also in the car with her. Where are they?

I failed Damian, Alia fears. She told him she would take care of them both until things calm down. Now she doesn’t even know where they are.

“It’s so boring when you don’t talk” Harley says, twirling one of Alia’s curls around her index finger “I’ve been told you’re very talkative. I was hoping to get some good chit chat”

Alia wishes she could be bolder. She wishes to be able to talk back with a smart comment. A good comeback like Jason always does. He is always super clever with comebacks.

She wishes to take the words off Harley’s mouth. Make her stop talking. Alia doesn’t like her corny voice and lavishly tongue, especially not so near herself.

“Talk!” Harley yells.

Her voice is so loud it makes Alia’s ears tingle. Harley pulls the hair strand she was twirling before.

Her headache is only getting worse and that fury rapture from her captor doesn’t make anything but contribute to it. She is getting more and more dizzy. A grand veil of blackness leans over her vision.

Alia opens her mouth. Her lips are dry, her tongue feels rusty. The words feel heavy to gesticulated.

“Where is Akiko and the baby?”

Harley’s grin grows bigger and she giggles like a child at Alia’s words. Is it not what she was expecting? She is making a fool of herself. Alia doesn’t know how the hell she is supposed to behave. She made things worse, surely. Her heart pounds against her chest. Jason had been really fucking serious when he warned her about Harley Quinn.

“Oh, they’re fine -I JUST COULDN’T HANDLE HIS CRIES!”

Harley’s voice raises higher with each word she says until she ends up plain screaming. Is it her thing? Jason’s advice feels pretty accurate. That woman looks very irrational.

“C-Can I be with them?”

Harley Quinn has blue electric eyes. Her pupils are so enormous they hide almost entirely her original eye color. Alia has seen it before in some cases at work: It was a common sign of many neurologic disorders, as well as some psychiatric ones.

Frenetic. Harley is frenetic. Yet her movements are very graceful. She starts dancing around her going throughout the room. Her black and white suit is tight against her skin.

“You’ll get to them if you’re good with me, doctor”

Chapter Text

Locked in a small room, the little doctor they guard is confined to an even smaller desk. For the past six hours, they made her develop at least ten different formulas.

The man and his partner watch her work carefully. No, not watch her. They are guarding her.

He doesn't know much about her. The doctor is a small woman: About five feet tall and a few pounds in weight. She has a long unkempt pack of hair. It falls matted with a mixture of dried blood and motor oil down her forehead.

She has large, almond-shaped eyes. Navy blue. They have an unmistakable hint of weariness in them. The doctor doesn't talk much. She has barely spoken a word in all the time they have spent together.

She stares at the paper sheets in front of her. Her eyelids droop heavily until they covered half of her huge eyes. She looks way more asleep than awake. Her hand doesn't stop. For the past six hours, she hasn’t stopped writing down on the sheets in front of her.

The man hadn’t been given any exact details of what the doctor should be doing, only that she is supposed to make formulas for some kind of substance.

The job he had been assigned is relatively simple: To keep an eye on the little doctor. He hasn’t been given many more instructions, except that he is to ensure that she finishes her work.

If someone asks him, the man would not know how to answer why he accepted this job. He literally could not. Sure, times are hard and he was in desperate need of money, but that did not mean he would accept a job like this under normal conditions.

He has a little sister. A brown-haired, short-limbed kid. Well, she is not so much a kid anymore but more of a pre-teen. She is in that strange transitional period between childhood and adolescence. Everyone became her personal enemy. It is her against the rest of the world. Teenager are supposed to be like that.

The man does not know how to get along with her. He never experienced the complexities of being a hormonal pre-teen girl. But he loves her, like every older brother loves his little sister.

Sometimes he feels she is more like a daughter than a little sister. The man took it upon himself to raise her since their mom died of an overdose. It was the right thing to do. Family take care of each other.

That was the real reason he took the job. The reason he couldn't tell anyone.

In the very distant past, the man was a loyal member of a gang. From his earliest youth to his early adult years. At that time, he thought it was his only chance to get ahead in a city as chaotic as Gotham.

He had been a good thug. He was an excellent negotiator and had an affinity for weapons that came in handy in that work environment. In addition, the man was characterized by having a stomach of steel and a strong hand to carry out any kind of torture that his superiors ordered him to do.

They were just orders, at the end of the day, and the money was too good to turn down.

Years of violence, drugs and excess had come to an end when Batman attacked the gang's leaders in a drug bust. That had been the man's chance to escape from that world. His former bosses had been brutally beaten and imprisoned in the deepest cells one could imagine. The rest of the important gang members fled the city as soon as they felt exposed and vulnerable.

The man hadn't been a particular important thug so he didn’t have the money to escape Gotham (If he had it, he would have leave and never returned). So, he did the only thing he could do in a situation like that: Look for a new job.

He didn't really have many opportunities in the traditional job market. His resume was gaping for years. And the only skill of value he possessed was the ability his body gave him to be hella intimidating and he was also pretty skilled with his fists.

Being a caretaker at Arkham Asylum paid relatively well compared to the alternatives, and they barely required papers to enter their workforce. There, the man could earn money to survive month to month in a congruently legal way.

He had been warned not to ask questions. Nor to make friends. The residents of Arkham were all very dangerous people. Criminals for the most part. Psychopaths. Psychotics.

The man is not a person of many words either, unlike his partner. In his time at Arkham he limited himself to coming in late and leaving early. Meet the minimum of his obligations and collect his monthly check each time.

The news of his promotion came to him as a surprise. The man never had a conventional job before, but he assumed that moving up couldn't be that easy. He was barely doing his job. People always complained about how hard it was to climb the corporate ladder.

He had been moved up to the maximum-security cells without any explanation, other than that the previous workers had resigned (The man would later learn that they had actually been murdered), and that his salary was increased. He thought nothing else. He asked no more questions.

The man's new responsibilities included guarding a series of well-known characters in the city: Poison Ivy, Dr. Freeze, Bane, and the Joker .

Every day, they all tried to sweet-talk him through different dynamics. They spoke to him of their most cherished desires, of the money they could offer him, of greater opportunities under their commands.

The man only listened to them while pushing the cart in which he delivered the meals cell by cell, and he didn't answer to anything. They were just empty words, mostly. No sane person would trust a madman.

It hadn't been until one day, few weeks into his job in the maximum-security area, that the normally playful but harmless and absent-minded Joker had peeked out from the window of his cell, waiting for the man on the lunch break.

“Pearl” Joker had told the man “That’s a pretty name for a pretty kid”

Those words had stopped him in his tracks. The man's mother had named his sister Pearl in homage to her then-girlfriend's late grandmother. It looked like an irrelevant detail; except he never mentioned to anyone at work that he had a sister.

The man soon discovered, to his horror, that the Joker knew a lot more about Pearl: Her age, the names of all her friends, her school schedule, and the extracurricular activities she attended.

Convincing him to hang up his gloves from that legal job and move back into the underworld of Gotham's nightlife had been really easy once the threats started. He didn't have much of a choice, either way.

The image of seeing a beaten Pearl coming home one afternoon after school haunted him every time.

After that moment, turning off his consciousness and obeying whatever order the crime clown and his psychotic girlfriend gave him had become an easy task.

He would have time to think about his actions later and regret them, or perhaps not. It isn't the first time he helped with a kidnapping (It probably wouldn't be the last either).

He doubts that after this, he would be able to go back to his old job at Arkham.

The man heard his new boss, Harley Quinn, talking to the doctor. She told her that as soon as she finished her work with the formulas, she could see Akiko and Domi again, whom looked like they are very important to her, because the doctor started to shake as soon as she heard their names. Harley promised her that they were both fine, but was it true? Who knows?

The man didn’t care enough.

From that moment on, the doctor hasn't stopped working. She looks more like an automated machine than a young woman. She writes and writes things as silent as a ghost. She crossed things out and checked them again. She doesn't seem to be happy with anything she wrote.

She is a very well-behaved prisoner, honestly. She doesn't cry. She doesn’t try to escape. She doesn’t even look up. The doctor spent the last few hours simply with her back to them, shaking like a drug addict in withdrawal and writing endlessly.

The man doesn't understand any of the words the doctor writes down, nor the numbers and strange symbols she draws on the paper, so he can't tell much about the progress on her activity.

The man's partner is much younger and bolder than himself. He fidgets in with his gun from time to time, and tries to make conversation by throwing useless comments into the air.

In all the time they have spent together, the man has not seen his partner's true face. They both wear plastic clown masks. A curious choice of uniform but it serves to identify each other in the midst of that gruesome operation.

They have both been assigned a matching package of weapons: a semi-automatic revolver and a short-handled knife. They have few restrictions as to how they could treat their hostage, other than that the young woman has to remain alive and her mental faculties have to function accurately to complete the task she was assigned.

The man does not know the exact number of people working for the crime clown, but it has to be at least two dozen. It is a mystery to him what the ultimate goal of the operation is. Surely to cause more chaos and destruction. The man does not care, as long as he could ensure the well-being of his sister. Then he could figure out what the next step for their lives would be.

Beneath the clown mask, his partner's features are not very noticeable: He has dark eyes and a white scar cut across part of his left eyebrow. The man doesn't even know his real name. His partner doesn't know his either.

It is for the best. The man does not want to get involved any further in such a horrible task beyond what’s necessary. Knowing more details about his partner would only increase the dangers for both their families. The man does not know if his partner has also been threatened or if he is just in it for the money.

The partner is taller than him and a little thinner too. He has a long, skinny limbs that reminds him of a noodle. His gloved hands are chubby and he has huge feet.

And he likes to talk, a lot.

“Should hurry her up” His partner whispers the man “Ain’t wanna make that bitch mad”

That youthful boldness is something the man remembers with particular accuracy. He himself had been full of it in his days within the gang. Although the years had taught him, through example, that silence is the best of his tools.

There is no real need to rush her. They weren’t given any specific time limit for the doctor's work. However, his partner is right. It is best not to tempt fate when working with criminals.

“Hey”

The doctor turns to look at them. Her eyes have a crystalline veil over them. From this angle, she looks like nothing but a disoriented young girl. She doesn’t answer anything to them.

“I’m talking to you bitch”

The doctor blinks a few times too slowly. Her mouth is pursed in a confused grimace. That lack of response infuriates his partner.

“You think we have all the fucking time of the world, don’t you?” He asks “What the fuck have took you so long?”

His partner approaches the doctor with long, heavy-footed strides. The girl shrinks back into her seat and grips the pencil in her hand so tightly that her knuckles turn white.

She begins to shake again but before her partner can touch her, the clanking of keys being inserted into a lock interrupts the scene.

The curvaceous figure of Harley Quinn appears through the door. She has colorful makeup on her face and her harlequin hat is askew. A couple of blonde hairs peeked out from beneath the fabric.

“She’s giving any problem, pals?” Harley Quinn asks with a malicious grin. “We have other methods to clear out your mind, doctor”

His partner stands up straight and the man himself takes a deep breath. The presence of the crazy woman commands fear in everyone present, especially in the hostage, who watches her terrified, without letting go of the pencil tightly held in her hand.

“No need” The girl mutters “I think I’ve finished calculating the dosages”

The man hasn't heard the doctor speak in all the time they have been there. She didn't even dare to ask for a glass of water or a little food in all those hours. Her voice is polished. She has a delicate accent that the man doesn't recognize.

Harley laughs. A deep laugh of mad laughter. She swings on her hips and throws herself on the little doctor's shoulders, squeezing them between her hands. A noticeable shiver runs through the doctor's body but she doesn't do anything else.

Amidst her display of noisy madness, Harley drops a pair of tubes containing a greenish, crystalline liquid. They are made of glass and have a cork top. They make a loud sound when they hit the desk.

“Let’s try it!”

Chapter Text

Alia is fearful she has overpassed her own capacities. She hopes that God can forgive her. She hopes she can forgive herself.

Alia took a Hippocratic oath when she graduated from college. She sworn not to harm anyone with the knowledge she acquired during her time there. Now? She is balancing drugs to create a torture device.

They are devising some kind of liquid…? A toxin of some kind. Harley wanted Alia to review the effect the components would have on the nervous system of those who ingest it.

Alia doesn't know exactly what they want the liquid to do. They have a multitude of chemicals of different physiological variables: Adrenergics, nitrates, anti-anginals, even a couple of adrenaline derivatives.

Elements that mixed up become a fatal cocktail. Alia spent the last few hours balancing formulas to generate maximum consumption doses that could affect people, but not kill them.

The task is much more complex than they expected, Alia supposes. There are a lot of variables to consider when calculating something like that: Weight, age, pre-existing conditions, gender, and so on.

 It’s unclear exactly how much time has passed, but Alia does know that it has been a long time since she'd last seen sunlight. By her own perception of time, it would be well into the early hours of the next morning.

She has the worst migraine she'd experienced in a long time. A thick layer of pain that hangs over her, stopping her from fully concentrating.

Her eyes burn. Her mouth is dry. Guilt is eating her alive. Even though she consciously knows that she could not have done anything else, it’s still hard to not blame herself. She was the one driving. She was the one who made a promise. Akiko is barely a teenager, hell, Alia picked her up from high school that very afternoon.

Harley Quinn stares down at her with her insane woman's gaze.

The vial in her hand holds a shiny liquid.  Something that, in theory, should not exist. The thick liquid moves like a half-activated slime.

It can't be more than a few milliliters. Maybe four or five. Alia designed the maximum safe dose for the average patient to be about 2 milliliters. Most could handle the oral route of administration but certainly, inhaling it would be way worse.

Alia calculated each ingredient using the maximum of her knowledge to ensure that it caused the least amount of damage possible while making sure she was doing the task she was asked to do.

Harley, however, is unaware of it. She had only skimmed over her calculation papers. She needed to stop and read it more carefully. A much deeper understanding of the subject is required to properly manage it.

Harley cares little about that.

The woman grabs her hair in one go, lifting Alia out of her chair with barely any effort. She has an immeasurable strength compared to any other woman Alia has ever witnessed before.

Her eyes shine with frenzied madness as she forces Alia's jaw open. With one hand, she uncaps the vial in a single movement and squirts the entire liquid into Alia's mouth.

It burns her throat. As it travels down her system, a burning sensation welcomes the way through her body. It is a sensation so overwhelming that all her desperate mind can do is pray that her calculations were correct.

Alia thinks of phosphorous organs and third-degree internal burns.

She had never experienced pain like that before.

From the list of chemicals and medications she was given, the liquid is a toxin that directly affects the central and peripheral nervous system. Acting on the information processing centers.

There are compounds that are specific to generating irregular changes in the hippocampus and paracingulate sulcus, as well as a couple of medications that affect the functions of the auditory cortex and the superior and middle temporal gyri.

Hallucinations, Alia suddenly understands, the toxin was meant to cause hallucinations.

Alia falls to the floor with a crash. She closes her eyes tightly, recoiling over herself. The temperature in the room drops and a series of chills attacks her back mercilessly.

She coughs and it retches up her throat. She wants to be able to vomit the liquid, but she fears that the double circulation could damage her insides even more severely. She doesn’t know what could be worse.

There are voices around her. They are asking Harley if she has killed her. The room is spinning. Harley Quinn is saying something about a joker, but Alia can’t focus on her.

It is cold. Very, very cold. Alia feels her body shivering on the floor. Beads of sweat run down her forehead. Her eyes hurt. Breathing hurts.

“Get the fuck up!”

Dr. Elliot's voice still sends shivers down her spine ever since that fateful night when Karenina died and he punched her in the face. Alia became terrified of the man. She failed him and their patient.

She failed herself.

When she opens her eyes, Alia finds him over her. She has to look up to see him.

Did she fall asleep on shift? She feels wobbly. Her stress is becoming chronic. Debilitating pain invades her battered form.

“You’ll never get anywhere” Dr. Elliot watches her with his eyes sunken beneath his reading glasses.  He is as solemn as ever. He looks at her with a hint of disappointment in his eyes. “No surgeon has ever been this weak”

The fabric of the scrub feels heavy against her skin. The weight of a responsibility that Alia would never fulfill. Dr. Elliot is right. She isn't cut out to be a neurosurgeon. She could never be one. She is too sentimental. Too soft. Too sensitive.

Alia cannot breathe properly. How many hours has she been working already? She feels tired. Really tired. A lot of parts on her body hurt. Especially her throat.

“Le-Let me, uh l-let me…” She mumbles. A certain dizziness falls over her head. She can’t focus at all “Let me call my parents”

She shouldn't act like a child at work, but she can't help it either. She feels awful. Like one step away from death. The pressure of her blood pounds against the arteries in her neck. Alia wants her mom and her dad. To be hugged by her siblings. She wants to go back to her childhood farm and never came back.

“They’re gone” Dr. Elliot tells her “They died. Months ago. You never called”

No. That wouldn’t happen. In no universe. Alia is distant but she always does her best to keep up with home. Why would she be there if they were dead?

“That’s impossible” Alia says “They’re okay. I-I would never do that”

Did she cross a line? Workalholic and a failure. She is hyperventilating. The room is very cold. Everything is too bright. She can’t handle it. No. She cannot handle anything at all.

It’s a mess. Everything got wrong because she was too weak. Doing too many things at once. Never being good at any of them.

“Go back to work” Dr. Elliot says “Or are you going to fail this too?”

Fail. Failure. She walks towards an O.R. Dressed as the lead surgeon. Is she going to do surgery on someone? But she doesn’t know anything about the case. She doesn’t know anything about nothing. She shouldn’t be there. She isn’t worth it.

Alia passes through a door but it isn’t an O.R, just a plain hospital room. A man is laying down. Alia knows his face by heart.

“He’s dead” Dr. Elliot’s voice calls her “It is only your fault Alia”

Jason lays weightless on the stretcher. He has his work clothes on: His red jacket and his black shirt with a red bat symbol in the center. His pants are torn. The wound on his leg is deep but no longer bleeds, instead, it smells rotten.

“No” She whispers“No. No. No”

As she holds his face between her hands, Jason is deathly cold. His eyes are closed, his brow furrowed. Alia's heart sank within her chest. He suffered greatly in his final moments. His lips have taken on a purplish hue that is characteristic of central necrosis in patients.

No. Not patients.

Corpses.

“Y-You c-can’t…” Alia mumbles while tears begin to stream down her face. “No. I can’t lose you. Not again”

Jason doesn't know about it, of course. Alia promised herself that she would take care of him in any way she could. They never went into details, but she already lost him long before she even met him.

“ What’s happening? I-I can’t… T-This…? Not you. What is happening? ”

Their timers stopped because something happened to Jason at some point in the past. A coma or something alike. He was always beating himself up. Every day he showed up with a different kind of wound. Alia promised herself that she would do everything in her power to make sure Jason was always okay.

He feels so cold beneath her touch. The mark on Alia’s arm stops throbbing. If she looks closely, she would notice that it faded completely.

Alia dugs her nails into Jason’s rigid flesh. His inert body disturbs her. It cannot be true. No. If she stays very still, she can pretend that isn't true. Jason would simply be waiting for her after work to take her home on his beloved bike with new modifications he had made himself. He would tell her everything about those modifications on their way home.

A few nurses hold her by the arms. The room spins. They wear clown masks and strange uniforms.

Nurses, right?

They are a pair of robust men with deep eyes. Alia hasn't seen them before in the hospital and she always made sure to get to know all the staff who work with her. They have rough hands. Too many calluses for them to be people who have to keep their hands as health work tools.

Hands? The lights flicker above her head. At first there are many and then very few. The room changes quickly. Hands? The nurses throw her onto a stretcher. Is it a hospital room or a work room? There are many lights and then very few. The white hospital tile merges with some old wooden boards on the floor.

They are going to kill her. Alia is sure of it. They would inject her with chemicals until she inflates and pops like a party balloon. They would suffocate her with a pillow. They would slit her throat with a scalpel. A heavy-handed surgeon would call her time of death in the hospital.

But Alia is not in a hospital. The white slab is not there. Jason is not there, either. Nor is Dr. Elliot. There are no nurses with her. Only thugs. Alia is not covering a shift. She was given a toxin created beyond her own capabilities.

Did she really surpass her own abilities? Did she cross a line? It cannot be. She can't meet her end inside a room lost at the end of the world.

She can't do that to her parents or to her siblings, who have always trusted her and supported her in pursuing her dream despite their opposition to her moving to Gotham. She cannot fail them. Alia cannot leave Akiko and Domi. They are just kids. She has to get out of this room. She has to find them.

She cannot do that to Jason. If she dies, it would destroy him. Jason took great cautions to take care of her in the city. She cannot let him down. She cannot abandon him. Being left alone in the world is too desolate of a feeling.

She cannot do that to her Jay, the man who listened to each one of her fears without pressuring her. He who accompanied her on her study afternoons. He who read chapters of romance books out loud to her to distract her when she was very stressed with work.

She cannot leave Jason alone. Not when she promised him to go on a trip to the mountains as soon as she had any vacation. He told her that he wanted to disconnect for a few days. Alia promised him. She cannot fail him.

Today is not the day she dies. No. She isn't going to give up. She cannot give up. Not at the moment. She has never given up before, no matter how much her mind wanted to contradict her.

That day is not the day Alia Gomez dies.

Her limbs are not obeying her but there is no other option. She cannot stop. Alia forces her arms to respond. Her feet feel numb. A tingling sensation runs through her lower limbs. Her legs loom heavy over her lower body. As she falls off the stretcher, her body makes a dry sound.

Alia repeats to herself the things she knows for a fact:

The stretcher is not real.

The hospital is not real.

That Dr. Elliot is not real.

Her family is safe.

Jason is safe.

It is all fake.

Alia balanced the toxin herself. She knows what it can do. At least for a fraction. She has to hold on to that knowledge.

The nitrates affect cardiac regulation, which is why she is experiencing an excessive tachycardia. The adrenaline derivatives worsen all her fears. Codeine acts on her spinal bulb, causing her to hallucinate.

Inside herself, she senses Jason is full of despair. Of rage. The greater the connection between soulmates, the more they could sense each other. Feelings, desires, even thoughts. She can feel him. It is an open channel between the two of them.

Jason is scared, but the predominant emotion is an unbridled rage that seems to consume everything around him.

Hallucinations. Alia has to ignore the voices calling her. She closes her eyes again. She keeps moving to get out of the room by any means necessary. She has to make it.

She drags herself using her elbows across the uneven ground, each movement charged with superhuman effort.

She cannot give up. Alia clings to the violent anger Jason feels as fuel to keep moving. Rage moves her body. It is the only thing she has left. No, not her. It is the only thing Jason has left. Anger can get her through where kindness is unable to.

She has too many people to get back to.

Her march stops when she reaches the crest of two pointed feet.

“Good girl” A female voice pets over her.

Chapter Text

My son,

If you can hear me

I knew you would return as well

Bruce’s words float in the air on Jason’s mind space as he is patrolling that night. How long has he been outside? Many, many hours. How many more? He doesn’t know. He can’t shake Bruce’s words off his mind.

It is in your nature to protect the innocent.

Under his fists, the criminal’s bones break with a dry hit. What has he done? Rape a woman in a robbery? Was it an attack that went south? What was it? Red Hood can’t focus on anything. Just blood. His fists are covered in blood. Is it his or the criminals? A mix of both. He doesn’t care. He can’t feel his hands.

The only thing he knows is that the criminal had that god forsaken pin on himself. A clown pin.

It didn’t have anything written on it, but the sole image of that pin over the criminal’s clothes awoke something inside Red Hood that turned him into a feral animal that only craves violence.

I am sorry that on that day

The day you were shut out and left to die.

No one was there to lift you up into their arms

The way you lifted others into yours.

Fuck Bruce and his fucking way to let every fucking thing pre planned. Was it really necessary to left out such a heartful message to him? Couldn’t he say it to his face? Of fucking course he couldn’t. It just isn’t Batman’s way.

The video record Bruce left for him at the BatComputer passes throughout his mind as a sharp knife. The criminal cried out loud behind his hands. Red Hood stamps his face against the concrete. Anything to not see that horrible pin ever away.

There is no one to blame but himself. Not Batman, not Joker. Red Hood should have already known that they could not be so trusting. He should have taken greater precautions with Alia. He should have been there.

If he hits the criminal hard enough, he could disfigure the metallic pin once and for all.

And then, what became of you?

I should have known you would not be content to disappear

Not my son

Could Jason escape his past? He tried. Once a killer always a killer? He still can’t feel his hands. Reminiscences of his past life are floating around his head. He can’t focus. He should’ve been able to focus. He has left that past behind. Has he? Yeah. He has. Obviously.

“Have you forgotten the lessons I taught you?” Talia Al-Ghul’s voice talked to him from inside his brain. She seemed to be everywhere he looked at these past days. “He’s still a threat until he’s dead”

The criminal trembles. He seems painfully helpless in the cold floor.

I couldn’t save you then

So let me save you now

Fucking Bruce. He manages to get under his skin even when he isn’t around. Bruce always knew his weakest strings better than Jason himself.

Alia. Lia. His soulmate. His girl.

He can’t shake the memories of Alia from his mind. Where the fuck is she? Why isn’t she on her bed, resting? Having that much needed beauty sleep she always deprived herself from. She should’ve been at the clinic by this time. Her usual schedule starts at seven pm. She should have been treating her patients. Drinking her overly sweet coffee. Texting him unfunny memes.

Where is she? Is she alongside Batman? He wishes so. Batman would do anything on his power to keep her safe. To keep them all safe. It’s just a matter of time until Batman figure their way back to them, right? Just a little more time until they manage to find them.

He hadn’t gathered the courage to ask her to officially be his girlfriend and now she was gone. Jason wants to scream his lungs out. To do anything but feel that way.

He knows the only thing that could help him feel normal again is to know for sure Alia is okay. To see her safe and sound. Making those awful jokes and yapping around clinical procedures for hours. He wants to hear about all the new things she’d bought for his bunny and her most recent ideas on how she will decorate Goody’s habitat.

He wishes to be back at the Manor. To spend another afternoon evening alongside Bruce, drinking Alfred’s tea and playing with Titus. Getting to teach Dominicus how to swim at the lake and having late night karaoke parties with his siblings.

They are so far behind at finding them. What clues does they have? None.

The family has raided all known locations for Joker’s past operations. They hadn’t left behind not even a single strand of hair. Nothing. If there was a slightly trace of any of them, it had been wiped out before they had come to the place. All of them pride on their detective abilities, but they are painfully unsuccessful. It is all starting to fall apart without their father.

Where the fuck is Alia? Where is Domi? Where is Akiko?

Where is Batman?

It’s time to rest Jason.

Crime doesn't sleep at Gotham. Work has to go on even if Jason feels like he is going to succumb into madness. People still need them. The world won't stop no matter how awful he felt.

Red Hood leaves the half-conscious body of the criminal in the street. The stranger leaves out a whimper. He kicks him in the stomach to shut him off. He grows more desperate with each minute it passes.

As he walks back to his bike, he reaches out one of the pockets of his red jacket and takes off his beaten-up phone. He had broken the screen a few nights ago in the midst of some street fight. Alia would have hated the current status in which he carried his phone and would have insisted that he had to get it repaired. She would say having a broken screen it was bad luck or some funny thing like that.

He dials a number he knew from heart. The call rings a few times.

This is Roy Harper’s voicemail

Please let a message

“Hey man” Jason whispers against his phone “I know you’re busy but, uh…”

His voice is shaking. Profusely. He is still wearing his helmet with its voice altering device but Jason knows Roy would know is him.

How long has it been since he last saw Roy? A few months maybe. They kept in touch through messages but he is now a busy man. Roy has a child and a beautiful life. Jason is the godfather. They are so happy for each other. Both of their lives seem to finally be coming together.

“She’s gone. Bruce’s gone. They took her, uh I-I…”

As he keeps talking, his chest accelerates. It is going up and down but he feels like he can’t completely breathe. There re tears forming up on his eyes but none of them roll down as much as he tries to let them down. When was the last time he cried? He can’t recall it.

“C-can you come over?”

The whole situation is overpassing him. He wants to go to sleep and never wake up. No amount of violence seemed to silence the ever-talking intrusive voices inside his head lately.

Jason sits at his bike’s seat but he doesn’t turn it on. It is starting to rain. A few lightly drops fall over his helmet.

Could he stay there forever? Maybe if he doesn’t move the situation can’t get any worse. Maybe if he stands still, in that fearful moment, he can pretend Alia is back home laying on his bed waiting for him to get some sleep together after patrol. They would wake next morning and he would cook some pancakes for both of them before getting ready to drop her at work.

“I-I don’t know what to do”

Chapter Text

For two whole days, Akiko has been working non-stop.

She felt her limbs going numb a few hours ago. One can take just so much for so long. But she couldn’t refuse to work. She has been standing alongside an old man, working on the turbines of a F-15E. A hunt jet.

Only God herself knows how the hell did they manage to have that kind of machinery hiding in the city.

Planes like that had to have a lot of licenses to move across places, even if they aren’t flying in the sky per se. A F-15E had to have government licenses approved. All sorts of. Corruption is Gotham’s thing after all, but that kind of stuff feels like a whole new level of idiocy.

Akiko isn’t even sure it was allowed to purchase one of those things without being part of a military group. Even if the plane is in a pretty bad shape as that one, it is nothing unfixable. The machine would be able to return its reign to the skies in no time. The danger is still there.

A F-15E is a war machine by definition. Fast. Almost untraceable. She has never asked Damian’s father what kind of machinery he works with but Akiko seriously doubts Bruce Wayne has anything that can come anywhere close to a F-15E under his roof. 

They are screwed. Working on it feels like treason. Something she wouldn’t do willingly. Of course. Like dig her own grave. Everyone’s grave matter of fact.

But Akiko has never been held at gunpoint before.

It’s a rather funny fact because Akiko has lived her whole life in one of the most dangerous cities of the country. She is a Gothamite at heart and in every way it matters but she hasn’t experienced the most usual situation on the city. To be fair, she has always lived in the upper side.

Akiko lived a fairly chill life: Her parents are frugal but rather well off. They have multiple properties and enjoy their workload as flight attendants. She goes to the best private school their money could buy and is able to pursuit expensive hobbies with professional teachers.

She never went out alone. Never visited the dangerous places. Never looked at the other side of the coin.

She met Damian when she was barely twelve in an advance art class after school. He was all cloudy and serious back then. Eleven years old Damian tended to speak weirdly. Always using crazy words and having a thick Mediterranean accent. He didn’t have any friends and often talked to himself at class. His distinguishing trait was undoubtedly that condescending gaze he freed upon everyone and everything.

Including her.

She wasn’t a cup of sugar either. Twelve years old Akiko was way too loud for her own good. Too hyperactive. Her classmates loathed that she loved to run inside the classroom even when she wasn’t allowed to.

Akiko hated Damian at first. She hated that he was better than her at drawing hands and capturing tiny details in his sketches. She hated his spiky hair. His scraggy frame. She hated that he behaved like he was so much better than everyone else.

She hated that he was her soulmate.

The term felt weird for a twelve-year-old kid that barely tolerated boys her age. And Damian was a year younger than her so he was even more insufferable, to make things worse.

Her life undoubtedly changed when he came to her life. Kids avoided her, not only because she was super-duper hyperactive and struggled to focus on one activity at once, but also because she had an ever-vigilant hound at her back at all times.

Damian would never admit out loud but he made his personal mission to escort her every time they were together, even if the only things he said to her were sarcastic remarks and smartass comments.

She hated him so much she tried to annoy him relentlessly to make him go away but he never got tired of her.

As they grew older and started to reach a middle ground to talk, they inevitably became inseparable. He was always eager to be her partner at any group project the teachers assigned, even though he still always had some snarky remark to bother her with.

They became friends, then best friends then something closer than it.

Once, when she was fifteen and walking down her elder childhood dog, Akiko got mugged by some random thug on the street. Her phone was snatched from her hands before she could realize someone was even following her. To be fair, it wasn’t her strongest suit to notice any changings in her surroundings when she managed to finally focus on something.

Damian had the grumpiest expression when she told him about it the next day.

“I will handle it”

That very same night, a teenager wearing a three colored superhero suit came to her home, holding a shaggy young man by the neck. He pushed the man to the ground at Akiko’s feet.

“Apologize. Now”

The superhero stepped on the thug’s neck as he quivered under his boot. Akiko could only watch the scene in front of her while trying her best to not look super childish on her Minnie Mouse pajamas.

The realization wasn’t hard to come by after that. There weren’t many superheroes that had Damian’s lean adolescent build and height. Especially not in Gotham where every vigilante was built like a brick and seemed to be at least thirty years old.

No one messed up on the streets with her after that incident.

Up until then, Akiko was allowed to make her life in Gotham as freely as she wanted. She could permanently call Damian or any of his siblings or even reach to Bruce Wayne if she ever felt unsafe. They always came by to check on her on a heartbeat. Barbara Gordon told her that if she ever needed assistance, she could reach out through any electronic device and she would help her.

The old man at her side quivers under some metallic piece that fell from one of the plane’s wings. It strings the floor with a loudly thump that makes the concrete vibrate. Every piece of a plane like that is absolutely massive but no sound surprises Akiko no longer. It isn’t the biggest plane she has worked on at all.

Akiko has always been obsessed with the sky.

She grew up surrounded by planes. Her parents were flight assistants and then his dad became a pilot. She got into a plane cabin before she even knew how to sit on her own. She grew up between mechanics and motors and turbines that were bigger than cars. Akiko learned how to fix a broken fuselage before she knew how to change a car tire.

It had always been a particular interest of her from the start of her life but the night that changed it all was when she fought with her parents because of some dumb argument they got themselves into. She was so frustrated that the only thing she could do was to stepped outside her home until she could calm down.

The sky was particularly beautiful that night as she remembers. Full of so many stars. Different sizes. Different shines. That sky was full of stories. Akiko wanted to know them all.

Damian was far, far away that night. Patrolling only God knew where. Domi was inside her home alongside her parents, desperate because of a sore throat that no medicine couldn’t soothe. Her parents were cursing out their names because of the crying baby.

For Akiko, the only thing that existed at that moment was that firmament.

The stars twinkle due to atmospheric distortion. In the night sky she could detailed them, alongside the always bright moon, amongst other celestial bodies.

Some would say it was an epiphany. She hadn’t known what she would do after her high school graduation. Following her family tradition felt like a legacy too heavy to carry. Then it hit her. Her parents’ adoration with flying wasn’t because they wanted to be afar from her. It all was because of how limitless the sky was.

Akiko wasn’t no Supergirl but she could explore the firmament throughout what most humans used: Planes.

As soon as she told her parents, they were the happiest she had seen them in her whole life. Their only daughter was able to follow the same career that united them as a couple. They immediately enrolled her in part-time private lessons to learnt how to fly.

It was her favorite moment of the day.

The lessons covered everything. From how to navigate cartographically to how to repair the most important defects in the different types of planes. She knew a lot of things beforehand but her teachers were such kind and extremely experienced gentlemen that contributed a lot to cultivate her knowledge more.

Akiko loved her aviation classes with the biggest passion she had on her body. She would graduate soon and could officially enter the aviation academy. It was a matter of months.

Her only problem was that the academy was in another city. Central City actually. Alia’s town.

It was something she had not yet discussed with Damian, but the decision had already been made. It was the only logical path to continue with her flying desire.

When she began her lessons, she never believed that her knowledge would be the reason why she would be kidnapped.

The plan was to modify it to enlarge its interior and increase its cargo capacity, both in gasoline and to make room for a couple of 60-liter tanks that would be connected to a watering system. It was odd to add a system that was mostly used in agriculture to a hunt jet, knowing that it was a plane designed to attack but Akiko isn’t in the position to ask any questions.

There is another man working alongside her. He has white hair and a full beard. His voice is low-pitched and he only talks the absolutely necessary to give her instructions.

The man’s tan arms are wide and stained with noticeable sun marks from a lifetime of working in aeronautics. There are burns. A certain type of wounds and scars that are just all too characteristic of that kind of job.

The man is conceivably more exhausted than Akiko. It is obvious. His advanced age works against him.

In those two full days, they have barely eaten a couple of pieces of hard bread and two glasses of water each. After laborious hours of work, it is obviously not enough for the old man.

She doesn't feel hungry nor tired. She has worked a lot in the last forty-eight hours, but she can't remember exactly what she did. She could only recall what she had done in widespread moments. Modifying some parts, dismantling others. The man had done most of the work. She followed his orders.

Damian uses to say that she was a born dreamer. Her multiple fantasies sometimes harass him but they help Akiko get throughout day to day. Especially at her most difficult jiffies.

Usually, it was in especially hard days or very long school activities. Akiko could let her mind wander for long periods while her body worked on automatic. Maybe that’s what is happening at the moment.

It is better to focus on it. Recalling and working. She could go back to her earliest memories, from when she was just a little girl contemplating the sky and give her body free rein to work on autopilot.

It is better to focus on that rather than on the overwhelming feeling of not knowing what has happened to Domi.

They had pointed a gun at her head. A man with extended arms and a clown mask. He pointed a gun at her head when she asked about the baby. Akiko didn't know what to do. She has never had a gun pointed at her head before.

Domi has never been alone before either.

Ever since he had arrived in Gotham at just a few days old, the whole Wayne family had taken special care to make sure that Domi was the most spoiled baby in the entire city. Especially Damian, whose cuddling personality greatly developed with the arrival of his youngest brother.

Dominicus didn't eat bread. Or sausages. Or sugar. Or meat. He didn’t like warm water or plastic cups. Damian took great care to prepare only the highest quality organic food for him. He had each of his meals specifically timed. Alfred made fun of Damian’s obsessive mania for taking care of the baby's diet.

“A little chicken soup won’t kill him, Master Damian.”

Akiko had been unconscious for the longest part after the accident, but Domi’s crying echoes inside her mind, even if she tries to wander away from it as much as possible.

She couldn’t stop and think about his cries. Not if she wants to keep working and finish her task.

The same man who pointed the gun at her head told her that as soon as she finishes her work, she could see Domi and Alia. He assured her that they were completely fine. There is not enough exhaustion in the world to make her stop then. Every screw she tightens is a moment closer to being back with her baby.

It is just about time for Damian to find them. Akiko knows he is doing everything on his power to reach them. She just has to go back together with Domi and hope for the best until everything is sorted out.

Around her and the old man, six armed men wearing clown masks watch them. They whisper things but just among themselves.

Akiko keeps focusing on her current task. Or at least she tries to. The old man who is her companion and directed the work tells her that she has to take apart some pieces of the turbine on the right side.

Most airplanes are built in a similar way. They have almost identical structures. If you know the fundamentals, intuition will teach you the rest. That’s what Damian tells her to boost her spirits and self-confidence. He trusts her and her intelligence a lot.

Akiko focuses on the present. The turbine in front of her is huge but not too different from that of a commercial airplane. The basics of aviation are practically the same everywhere. They respect the laws of physics and thermodynamics. Universal principles.

So focused is she on her job of choosing the right size screwdriver that Akiko doesn't notice when the guards watching over them gather around the only door and begins to discuss something amongst themselves.

A new man enters the place. He is indistinguishable from the rest of the thugs. He wears the same black outfit and the clown mask covering his face leaves no details visible other than a pair of brown eyes under bushy eyebrows.

“Flash news!” The newly entered goon yells “Come here!”

Between his gloved hands, the goon holds a broken phone. It is an old model and the screen is thoroughly distorted. The image quality is far inferior to the capacity of the vast majority of modern technologies.

But the woman on the video is, undoubtedly, Alia.

She was tied to a chair in something that looked like a tiny room. The only lighting that highlighted her muggy face was a long, thin floor lamp. It makes Akiko remember of the Pixar lamp that Domi loves to watch so much.

Alia’s pink scrub was in a battered state. It had stains of different colors and sizes all over the fabric material. Alia had always been extremely careful with her scrubs. She took care of every detail of her personal appearance in her work uniform. It was strange to see her clothes in an absolutely pristine state.

Akiko is not an expert doctor by any means, but she knows very well that the way Alia was writhing in her seat cannot be normal nor healthy.

“What did you do to her?” Akiko whispers but she doesn’t obtain any answer. The goon only gurgles. “, oh God”

Alia’s head twisted back in a shudder, and the distorted image captured precisely the way her eyes rolled inside their sockets until they turned white. Her hair moved around her shoulders wildly.

Alia was having a seizure.

The old man beside her choked back a sob as he heard the screams that erupted from Alia's throat within the video. Akiko starts to desperate as she watches another man hit Alia in the face. A gag rose in her throat as she sees a second man grabs some forceps to approach her friend.

Akiko can't control the weeping that emerge from her lips, horrified. Ahe stands paralyzed as she watches the image of her friend being tortured before her eyes.

For those two days, Akiko just worked tirelessly. Barely receiving any food and a lot of mistreatments and she felt like a whole anxiety filled mess, but she hasn’t been hit nor physically punished in any sort of way. Not anything like that, not even close.

What the fuck is actually happening?

Akiko gasps, looking for a way to get some lost oxygen into her lungs. A single thought erupts inside her mind.

Where is Domi?

Chapter Text

Damian stares at Dominicus’ freshly made-up bed.

His youngest brother only started to sleep on his own two weeks ago. Damian had read in a maternity book that it was better for kids to gain their own sense of independency at a young age.

Domi is twenty-three months now. Old enough to be able to sleep on his own bed with the only remaining condition to still share the same room as him. Damian is just way too paranoid to let him spend the whole night alone.

What if he suddenly choked in his sleep? What if he fell out of the bed? What if he suddenly stopped breathing? He is still too small. Too clueless.

Domi is a bright child. Always smiling and laughing at everyone. He is very different from Damian or any of his siblings for that matter. It is a good thing.

That only means they are doing a great job at raising him far away from any superhero or vigilante stuff. Maybe it would only last until he is of age to decide by himself.

Nevertheless, it would be for the best. No small child should go throughout what Damian did without a chance to choose something different from themselves.

As he traces the intricates designs engraved on Domi’s bead frame, Damian remembers his own childhood nights. He mostly dreamt of pure blackness. An empty whole of nothing but rest and sleep.

On some nights, his dreams were full of nightmares.

At first, Mother tried her best to comfort him on those nights but she did not know how to handle such complex emotions without recurring to violence so she frequently opted to be dismissive and just commanded him to go back to his room and sleep. It did not help with the sheer terror he felt on those nights.

Damian was scared of death. And spiders. They were irrational fears, as all children emotions were.

Domi now manages to get in and out of the bed on his own. Whenever he has a bad dream, he would climb to Damian’s bed to cuddle up with him in the middle of the night.

The baby usually babbles about his dreams for hours, using the few words he knows how to muster until he falls asleep again on his older brother’s arms.

Damian enjoys their time together. He likes to hear his brother jabbered inconsistencies. Even if it means he would not get enough rest to afront the next day. Domi would not be a kid forever. In some time in the near future, he will opt to not wake Damian up when he has nightmares.

When Damian was a bit older than Domi himself, he used to do the same thing with Jason Todd.

It was a much stranger scenario, however. At that time, Todd was freshly out of the pit and he was much more of a loose madman than in the present days, but young Damian grew used to his psychosis.

Todd was always awake at any given time during the night, as in those past days he hardly had any sleep. He often just stayed in his bedroom tidying it up or writing some incoherence down in paper sheets.

Damian was maybe five or six. He would walk to Todd’s chambers and spent the night there when he had any bad dreams. They talked a lot. About training. About Gotham. Todd told Damian stories of his time alongside his father. The very little he could remembered of Bruce. He had once told Damian he shared the same wild dark hair as their father. It was a lively time sometimes. But on some other nights Todd was completely out of his mind and could only communicated through grunts. Damian still kept him companied on those nights.

They talked about any nonsense until Damian was entirely assured that no nightmare could reach him in the real life. Todd always let him sleep on his bed, even if it meant he would have to slept on the bare floor.

It didn’t matter how senseless Todd would be on those nights, he always promised Damian to have his back in any case.

Just a few years after that, Damian Wayne and Jason Todd would come back to Gotham.

Living at Father’s place was different than living with Mother. Their dynamics were far more complex and involved way too much emotions which Damian struggled to handle at first. There was also that breach on Todd’s newly relationship with Father after he discovered what happened subsequently to his death that deeply troubled Damian.

Him and Jason Todd are not so different. Little did it matter how much Damian Wayne admires Grayson and his caring spirit; Jason Todd is still his closest brother. Damian is just so much like him in the worst ways: Their violence. Their cold-bloodedness. Their upbringing.

They are a mirror of each other in many, many behaviors.

They often fought over small things but he was his brother nevertheless and he knew Jason Todd would keep his promise.

Damian would not understand it until much later in life, when he had a younger brother on his own. When Dominicus appeared on their lives, Damian suddenly understood everything Jason Todd had ever done for him.

It was harsh to witness Father’s strangled behavior towards Domi. He often acted like the kid did not have any greater needs than Gotham did. Same as he had done before. It was strangely hurtful to get used to it. Father was a rigid man. The city was over anyone else. His priorities would not change for anything on the world.

Father loves them, of course. He loves Domi on his own complicated way. That same way as he does with Damian and with Jason and with the rest of them. Nonetheless it was still upsetting to watch how he handled his relationship with Domi.

Currently, Dominicus is no longer there. He has not slept on his bed for days. Neither has Father.

The family raided the whole city looking for him. Looking for them. The four of them disappeared seemingly out of thin air.

There are just a few reports on an automobilist accident in the highway that led to Alia’s apartment complex. A car crashed into the doctor’s vehicle and a third van with no plates drove through the place in a slightly slower velocity than the rest. The two vehicles were trashed in a lake that same night and the doctor’s car remained empty on the driveway until the police and them arrived.

It is all they had on the case. Nothing conclusive that can lead them somewhere.

Grayson has temporarily moved back to Gotham to lead on the operation as he is much needed on the family. He is deeply affected by Father’s disappearance and the duty of carrying Batman’s mantle but he is the best at keeping a sharp mind and not letting his emotions get the best of him to not overstep the clear boundaries Father has set for all of them.

The whole Manor and its inhabitants are all having a stress outbreak through and through.

Jason Todd is clearly struggling. He has become more and more ruthless with each night that passed as they are not getting any closer to find the others.

Gotham’s crime rates are at an all-time low and the younger Wayne suspected it may have something to do with Red Hood ferocious methods to clean the streets while trying to gain any relevant information from criminals.

Damian feels lightless. He grips on Domi’s bed frame to get ahold on the reality. It is to no good he lets his thoughts wander through the roof. Searching and finding the rest is the only thing that matters at the moment.

It would only get worser if he stops to think about Akiko.

She is a brave girl. Maybe too chatty for her own good but she would be okay. She is smart and witty and could probably talk her way out of anything. Her words work like a spell to Damian and he is sure she could find a means to keep herself out of trouble for long enough.

Damian wants to believe he taught her all the necessary stuff to be able to defend herself up until he could get ahold of her.

Father insisted for her to learn about self-defense tactics and the basics of firearms once she was old enough. Akiko enjoyed the lessons although she was not a skilled fighter by any means. Her punches were too soft. She did not want to harm any of them by accident (Like if it had the chance to occur), but she particularly liked shooting a gun too much.

Because of all the years they had been with each other safely, Damian trusted their luck too much.

He should have known.

Nothing is sacred in Gotham. Nothing is untouchable.

Akiko’s yellowish hair strands are stuck on Damian’s mind like cyclic memory. She had recently dyed it in a rather alternative fashion style. It was a combination of three colors in a mixed sequence, like a calico cat. Damian adored it. It went a lot with her amusing personality and was as unique as her.

They have a pending meeting: A new Star Wars movie was just released in the cinema. A live-action that Akiko had been crazy to watch. She insisted him to go with her for at least a month before its releasing. Now the movie is in all cinema theaters, which only means they have a meeting that they had to comply. Damian is going to make sure of it.

It is just a matter of time until they both are together again, and in that time, he would not let go of her again.

Just a matter of time.

On those days, Damian often thinks what would Father do. How would he investigate to find the clues left behind? There are always clues left behind. Father would follow a backup plan. They have searched for them in the BatComputer and found some files in case he went missing. They were mostly about how to keep the city and the BatCave safe, but nothing particularly useful.

Damian could not think of a lot of situations that could led to Batman himself to be stuck on a place he could not get out on his own.

Except he does not want to get out yet.

Damian walks out of the bedroom. A new idea on his mind: No crime is ever perfect. He has thought of a new angle to look at the situation.

He keeps on walking, descending to the Batcave. If Damian stops to reflect about the whole situation, he will crumble.

It would be to no good.

Chapter Text

What is the best way to disregard a whole operation but from the very inside?

It is a good line of thinking to follow along. It had been Batman’s main goal to infiltrate inside Joker’s headquarters once and for all. There had been too many irregularities in the city in the past few months, even more than usual.

The initial plan has not been to disappear. At least not for that long. A single night. Or a whole day or two at most.

His original plan had been to quickly follow a lead provided by Oracle. In and out. It would be a simple task, a one-night thing. There was no need to disturb any of his children about it when it was a simple mission. There were certain things that were better left unsaid to protect them. No good would come along to agitate the nest without a real threat in order.

Batman did not fail, but Bruce did. He sinned of being obsessive and humanly egocentric. Let himself be carried away too far into and lost track of time and space. Trusting he could handle anything alone.

What he had originally thought of as merely inspection of a couple of dubious businesses of a new illicit substance on the streets of Gotham, had ended up involving him in a trafficking operation that took him to the city's docks, in which the execrable had happened.

Bruce had been tricked. He fell into his trap. A trick too old for Batman not to have a contingency plan for it.

It was easy to get to them first. Just a couple of unexpert goons that would calmly (after a few couple beatings) admit some detailed operations when captured.

Joker settled up a whole operation from the very inside of Arkham, working alongside some of the most known mafias of the city to fund the release of an enhanced version of his infamous toxin.

His plan? The goons were not so certain about it but rumors were that they would try to infiltrate the drug on the water deposits somehow to contaminate the population and put a ransom over the city for the government to pay.

Batman doubted it was truly the Joker’s main purpose. It appeared odd for him to do something so premeditated just because of money. No. Joker did not operate on such terms. He was chaotic. Closer to a demoniac entity than to any human in such basic desires.

Joker would not want money but chaos. Violence for the sake of violence. That was probably it.

“I hate him” Bruce confessed to Selina one afternoon evening “I hate Joker”

His children were spending an afternoon in one of the many living rooms of the mansion. Alfred had invited them all to meet after dinner to try a new recipe for Swiss cookies that he ventured to prepare after seeing it in a recipe book that Bruce had brought him from his last trip to the Slavic country.

Even Selina had accepted the invitation willingly, to Bruce’s surprise. For one afternoon and at the request of Alfred himself, the woman had decided to abandon her criminal activities to accompany them in the evening.

Seeing his entire family together, happy and safe, filled Bruce's heart with a powerful feeling of pride. And fear.

Gotham was going through a period of unusual tranquility that was about to complete six full years. The mafias and common criminals continued trying to make a living among the streets of the city, but the collective memory had forgotten the feeling of restlessness that previously flooded them when the insane criminals controlled the territory.

Wayne Enterprises had invested much of its stock gains over the past few years into reforming the medical plans and reinforcing the security policies at Arkham Asylum. Tim led the shareholders' meeting that approved the financing plan to expand the asylum and build two new floors, including several maximum-security cells and extra training plus incentive bonuses for all staff. Both new and old.

Better benefits meant also better management of the city’s asylum and less untraceable corruption.

The prevention and control policies that had been agreed upon with the mayor, together with the cooperative work with Gotham P.D. were bearing its fruits.

Citizens could finally maintain fairly normal lives, without the relentless fear of villains hiding in the underground nor having nightmares about someone controlling of their bodies through experimental liquids.

Getting to that point had been a titanic task that had entailed too much planning and alliances from every possible strategic point. A task in which each of his children had been of vital importance, since the unique perspective of each one was crucial to cover the blind spots that Bruce's limited criteria did not reach.

He especially had to recognize Jason’s efforts.

While Bruce was completely against the personal approach he had done in his time as a justice outlaw, ever since they had reached the agreement to stop the manslaughter, Jason's expertise on criminal activity in the most dangerous neighborhoods of the city had proven priceless. His very own contribution to establishing a plan to dismantle the oldest criminal hierarchies.

Mafia crime was the area where Jason Todd worked the best. He was a natural managing that kind of missions. The boy had the personality and knowledge necessary to convince any mobster to do whatever he wanted.

If his soft methods did not work, Red Hood knew perfectly what techniques to use to safeguard potential victims and dismantle the aggressors. After his time as Robin and his training at the League of Assassins, Jason Todd was a menace for any opponent.

It was extremely easy for Jason to act within that framework of surveillance, he could do so without thinking twice. It was not the case with the issue of Joker’s activities.

Bruce knew his son really well, and he noticed that, despite his best attempts to disguise the effects that post-traumatic stress had on him, Jason still had a hard time staying grounded in reality when any mention of the Joker came up.

It affected his mind as it did affect his actions in a way none of them could afford to fall into again. They could not get back to where they were in the past.

It was better for Jason to stay apart from any Joker’s affairs.

The recent truce between Bruce Wayne and Jason Tood allowed them to establish a better relationship. A neutral middle ground in which they were slowly growing closer together.

Although Jason would never blindly trust him again as he did before his death, Bruce knew that his son valued his opinion and experience as much as he did with his.

Bruce also suspected that Alia's arrival had smoothed Jason's active participation as a member of the family. His son was completely heels over head for her and had taken upon himself the responsibility of preserving the integrity and innocent personality of his young doctor in a city as corrupt as Gotham.

He had talked about how Alia missed her big family dearly and found some sense of comfort when she was around them, as she was used to shared her free time in company of others. Bruce did suspect it was mostly Jason’s way to get back to the Manor without admitting that he also missed their time together. He was probably using Alia’s extrovert personality as a scapegoat for his own familiar needs.

Jason also said that Alia was often too trusting and got herself into many problems just by helping people without thinking about the consequences, as she had first done with him. It concerned him to think about Alia running into the wrong people because of her lack of knowledge of the city’s schemes. Jason liked that personality trait from her but at the same time it worried him troublesome.

Their current efforts were part of a larger program that the family had been developing for several years, and it was bearing fruit at a much better speed than everyone had anticipated, but Bruce knew perfectly well that such good streaks rarely lasted for long periods of time.

“After everything he’s done, you wouldn’t be human if you didn’t”

Selina was resting across the door frame with her arms crossed over her chest, which was covered in a tight black blouse. She looked as mesmerizing as always.

Using her soft silky voice to talk with him, she could get anything she would ever want from him in that way. As she has done before.

He would not have liked to talk about his concerns in such a joyful time like that, but his apprehensions grew stronger every calmed day that passed through. No good thing ever came from an especially quiet period in the city.

Selina understood his concerns better than anyone else. They share that special bond that allows them to communicate with something more than words. Feelings. It is easier to express his worries when Selina understands him even when Bruce himself could not.

Death is one of Batman’s greatest fears. As much as intimacy is.

At first, it had been easy to take down those goons. Batman was about to call the night off and retreat to his home to prepare for that night’s patrol when he was hit with an essence.

It was intoxicating. The odor it emitted remembered Batman of petrol and pearls. It was strong enough to trespass the mask’s filter, something no other gas was ever able to. Something uncalled for, as he was completely sure he had prepared the suit with top notch technology based on previous attacks.

No. That was something new.

Before he knew, Batman was surrounded by complete darkness that quickly fused with his biggest fears appearing over him.

“Bruce, I need you to hear me this time” Selina severed as she stepped closer to him “When we get to the end of this road” She started to say “When it comes down to you and him…”

Selina’s words haunted him in ways Batman finds hard to define. She is a smart woman. One of the smartest he known. Her strongest suit are emotions. Selina is able to read any person like an open book without anyone else even realizing it.

She knew firsthand of Bruce’s biggest weakness and his strongest strength. His fear. He could over plan anything and everything he would like but he could not help the fact that everything he ever does is incentivized by his greatest fears turning into reality.

That is the utterly motive that instigated Batman’s origin: Fear.

His legs are sore. The muscles on his body beg him to stop but he keeps walking. As he has done for the past few hours since he woke up from the toxin aftermaths.

He is inside some sort of maze with no food and no light, just an endless source of dirty water under his feet.

It takes all the willpower inside of him to keep going. No food and no clear water would be the death of him if he does not keep going. His path feels like a never-ending road but he would not stop. Even if the toxin has not completely worn off from his system and makes it difficult to separate reality from the hallucinations.

Batman does not stop. He has not done it in the past. He will not do it now.

“All I’m asking is that you come home at the end of the day”

He looked at his soulmate with despair. The only thing she had ever asked him for that he would not be so sure if he would be able to give to her.

She knew he was willing to sacrifice everything to keep the city safe. Even himself. There were certain lines he would never cross but sacrificing himself was not one of them.

“Selina…”

Batman has to survive because he cannot leave his children alone. His children.

It was hard to understand at first because he wanted to believe he had prepared all of them to be on their own once the inevitable happened. Be it he died from an injury or from old age. Bruce is only human after all.

He remembers the time he lost his parents. He remembers it all too well: How agonic the first years were. The first moments that were unbearable.

He cannot do that to his own children on good faith, even if all of them are old enough to overcome it. Yes, they are all older than he was when it happened but he feels nowhere ready to leave them all behind.

Guttural voices overlap on his ears. None of them are real. He knows it. The hallucinations are tearing off his last bit of good consciousness but he has to keep going. At some point, the maze has to have an ending. He just keeps on walking.

“This doesn’t work out without you”

Mario kart was playing on the main TV in the living room as Damian, Duke and Akiko were trying to beat each other on the race using multiple tactics on the rest of the animatic players because Tim had bet them all they could not surpass his personal record on the game.

Cassandra and Stephanie were chatting with Barbara on the floor, forcing themselves to figure out the rules to some board game they were insisting on all of them to play with since the beginning of the evening.

Alfred was finishing tidying up the cookies plates while Dick held Dominicus and rocked him to entertain the baby so he would not try to bite any of the present people as his freshly erupted teeth seemed to bother him considerably.

Jason and Alia were both sitting together on one of the puffy couches that his second son absolutely adored. He was reading a book out loud to her, as she was resting her head over Jason’s shoulder.

It was the cutest image of the evening, and none of his siblings had even dared to interrupted them as it was tremendously unusual to see the touch-repulsed Jason Todd comfortably sharing his personal space with someone else.

Ever since he came back, Jason preferred to be kept by himself. He only let his closest friends get near him, and even then, he usually despised to be touched by them in any form but he seemed extremely relaxed under Alia’s touch.

At their feet, just behind the kitchen table, Titus, Damian’s dog, was cuddling along Alfred the cat over a fallen pillow in the floor. They had finally gotten along after a few messy fights earlier.

Bruce left out a slightly gloomy smile. They were his family. All of them. The family he had surprisingly built by himself despite his best efforts to remain alone and live a life of complete solitude. Somehow, they had all found their way to him.

It was now Bruce’s duty to keep them all safe.

“They need you as much as you need them” Selina said and then she put one of her slick hands over Bruce’s chest “I need you”

Snapping out of his memories, Batman tears down the last remaining door that parts him from the final part of that god forsaken warren.

Chapter Text

Alia’s favorite dish is barbecue pork belly.

Roy Harper knew that not because he has ever met her personally. No, he has been way too busy raising his own child and fighting crime at his town to come visit Gotham.

Matter of fact, Roy has never met Alia Gomez before but he knows all about her.

He knows she likes sushi, especially spring rolls and spicy teriyaki sauce. He knows she enjoyed chick flick movies and pop music -Her favorite singer is Chapell Roan and she always sings Pink Pony Club while getting ready to work.

He knows she curls the tips of her hair inside out and that she uses tinted sunscreen, brown mascara and a peachy blush as her daily go-to makeup. He knows Alia does the dishes sitting down on a very specific chair and that she mopes her apartment floor with a cinnamon infused water for good luck and prosperity.

Roy Harper has never met Alia Gomez himself, but he has met her throughout Jason’s gaze.

Honestly, the redhead never imagined in his wildest dreams that any of them would live long enough to meet their true one and only. Somehow, despite all their bets, the two of them managed to survive through bullets, bombs, knives and seemingly the world’s entire arsenal to reach the adult years.

Jaybird has been over the moon, in spite of his greatest fears. Increasingly more and more infatuated with his very own soulmate presence, Alia is his favorite conversation topic.

It is utterly strange for Roy to find himself inside her apartment before even meet her.

He imagined a very different situation for it. In his mind, he would come over to Gotham together with his child (Who had also heard Uncle Jay’s eternal voice notes about his soulmate) and they’d meet the famous Alia Gomez. With a little bit of luck, she would already be Jason’s girlfriend by then.

Life took its own course, and Roy’s visit to Gotham had been delayed until the very last instance. Unfortunately, in very hostile circumstances.

Alia’s place holds a dull tint over it. The windows are completely closed and there are just two lightbulbs turned on once they arrive. It stinks like any closed place does after just a few days of neglect.

“We have to take the trash out” Jason has told him upon entering the apartment “Alia hates the flies”

Jason Todd has been… surprisingly quiet. Roy expected him to be utterly insane once he arrived to Gotham. He pictured Jason greeting him with a pair of guns and a hitlist.

But he hadn’t and that scared the shit out of Roy more than anything else.

Kori had informed him via text that Jason was really struggling with Alia’s kidnapping and then, when he received that voicemail from Jay, Roy didn’t have any other option but to rush as quickly as possible to his best friend’s hometown.

It was very difficult to hide his sudden trip to Lian, because she really wanted to visit her uncle and meet his new pet bunny. Lian actually had a thousand plans set up on her imagination about the tricks she would teach the bunny (Though Roy wasn’t really sure if bunnies had the mental capacity of learning tricks).

Roy and Kori had exchanged a lot of texts about Jason’s situation. The alien woman stepped out of the situation because of his fiancé request but she was relentlessly doing her best to keep tabs on the situation.

Jason was a very dear friend to her, almost as close as he was to Roy.

Long behind were the days in which they went all across the globe doing the dirtiest work from any who had the money to pay them, but the tie they developed during that time was a strong one.

Now, the four of them are keeping their eyes out for Jason as he has done in the past when they were the ones in trouble.

Artemis and Bizarro wanted to tag along with him once they found Roy was coming over to Gotham, but even with Batman’s disappearance, they all respected his rule of no meta-humans entering his city unless strictly necessary.

Intrusion on Gotham city is not in any of their wish lists.

The city is Batman’s territory. Superhero or vigilante, none dares to trespass his territory without obeying his rules.

Jason goes inside the apartment’s colorful kitchen. It is painted with a softer tone of a yellowish green than Roy first expected. He imagined Alia more of an orangish kind of girl herself.

To be fair, the girl has a questionable taste for decoration. Almost as questionable as her taste in men, seeing that she liked Jason so much.

Everything is flashy and none of the things match with each other. The apartment is peak Single Girl Place, at least to Roy Harper’s taste.

He knew Jason stayed over some nights, but there are no major signals of his presence in the home. In some other circumstances, the place would feel fun and welcoming. Major relaxing vibes on it.

That day, all Roy feels upon entering Alia’s kitchen is an eerily sensation burning down his throat.

A pile of washed dishes stays over a drying tower. There is a bunch of flamboyant cups and coffee mugs scattered all over the sink. Jason walks there directly and silently starts to separate them in groups.

Roy wants to help him but doesn’t know how to get in touch with the whole situation. What is he supposed to say to Jason? Nothing really comes up to his mind. He is usually described as very talkative, but today he lacks the words to support his best friend.

“I can’t hear you” Jay says bluntly “, but I’m sure you’re thinking about something stupid”

Roy briefly chuckles and then moves to Jason’s side to put a hand over his shoulder. He doesn’t flinch but his eyes squinch a little under his touch.

A few empty pots are showing early signs of blossoming plants in the corners of the kitchen basin. Jason had told him Alia is hyper fixating in growing her own vegetables as a home project, he also confessed she was terrible at keeping them alive.

“I’ll take the trash out Jaybird”

Jason simply nods. His eyes absently stare at the distance without focusing on the current reality. His hands move coolly tidying up the dishes.

Roy takes off some trash bags that are pilling under the counter top. It is a disgusting mess that shouldn’t have been leave out for more than a day. Worms are coming out of the top of the bag as Roy focuses on ignoring them to not throw up in the place.

It definitely isn’t what he first expected when he heard Jason’s voicemail. Kori told him all about the violent increase on Red Hood’s maneuvers and Roy had expected anything for his visit to Gotham but cleaning up a padlocked apartment.

Jason’s gaze falls upon a ceramic mug but he remains silent. The mug has a blue gradient and golden stars painted across the structure. It looks rudimentarily decorated. He sighs but doesn’t dare to move the object.

“She can’t come home to a dirty home.” Jason says “She’s gonna go crazy if I don’t clean this up”

Over an auburn coffee table in the middle of the small living room, there are a couple textbooks opened in different pages.

As Roy swiftly looks at them, he reads that they describe different brain parts and functions. There are still some markers and highlighters messily gathered around and a few loose paper sheets with a chaotic handwriting over them.

Jason gets caught for a moment contemplating the messy coffee table that probably served Alia as her study spot over the half window that connected the two spaces.

Roy clenches the trash bags inside his fists, uncomfortable at his best friend’s obvious despair. What can he do to help him? He lacks the words. The proper ideas. Roy takes the elevator to descend to the ground floor of the building.

A rotten odor invades his nose and makes his eyes twitch. He remembers all the things he had to get arranged out to visit Gotham as he fights back the sense of motionless panic the lack of action is causing on him.

Roy asked Lian and her mother to stay at a friend’s home for a while until he sorted everything out. Even if he isn’t a Gothamite per se, Roy holds highly caution for Joker’s schemes and wouldn’t dare to underestimate how far his tentacles could go for.

Better to be safe than sorry.

Red Hood dismantled four drug operations by himself in the last two days before Roy’s arrival. Kori confided on him that Jason sent two dozen of men to the hospital while looking for answers.

Numbers and facts over the table, Red Hood was going feral ever since his soulmate’s disappearance.

It is odd then to observe him as calmly then, but Roy knows better than to think Jason is that shallow.

His friend got probably so depersonalized that he isn’t able to entirely focus on the present moment. It is common for him to zone out of situation in harsh stress.

He had snapped out of it the night he called Roy. It was a brief moment where Jason truly realized the depth of the situation that the family got themselves into: Akiko is missing. Dominicus is missing. Batman is missing. Alia is missing.

He is scared, nevertheless. And tired. Roy doubts he has had any sleep in the last days. His voice breaking out loud on that voice mail haunted Roy throughout his entire travel time to Gotham.

As any hero, Roy has a particularly good recall for details. He noticed Jason’s bruised knuckles with just a quick look. It indicated that he had been directly fist fighting and not using his beloved guns.

No. It was way more personal. He was letting go of his rage through punches.

There are no many leads on the situation, thought. No matter how hard Red Hood hits the thugs, they only knew little details about an outwardly much bigger operation.

As far as Jason told him, all the information they have gathered pointed to the same direction: Joker was working alongside someone else, a very wealthy partner who was funding all the procedures.

Rumor is they are planning on releasing a new version of its infamous toxin mixed with more common drugs on the market, but if Roy knows one thing for certain, it is that Joker’s toxin is 100% deadly.

It is hard to imagine a version of the liquid that could mix well with another drug. The toxin is far too strong to be able to safely go along with any synthetic drug, so it limits their options to natural drugs.

Still, the market and its vendors are far too wide to go after them all in such a limited time. Especially when time is their most valuable resource.

Jason feared that Joker had kidnapped Alia in a direct retaliation against him. It is, in fact, one of his greatest fears.

Dick Grayson confessed to Roy that they are managing a hypothesis where Alia’s clinical skills were actually useful in Joker’s plans for his new drug. Not so long ago, Alia had been the co-author to a fairly successful article about noradrenaline-related chemicals and its consequences on the brain.

Roy knows little about brain mechanisms but Tim quickly explained to him that noradrenaline is a singular by-product of the metabolism. A natural chemical released from the brain that is a stronger, crazier version of adrenaline.

It could unlock extreme strength and energy, but only once, because, as a quick Google search explained to him, it is only released in Move-or-Die situations. It leaves the person with permanent consequences from its releasing.

Jason’s girl is a very smart one and he took great pride on it -Roy has read hundreds of texts about it- Surely, if the situation was anything like the street thugs were confessing about, they would want her on their team.

As he opens the trash cans placed for the apartments’ inhabitants, a single yellowish worm drags itself up on his skin. Roy lets out a single groan and quickly snaps the animal out of his hand.

It is a lovely neighborhood, truly. Full of older college students and all sorts of pets. Roy watches as a couple of girls walk by the other side of the street with the prettiest Pomeranian he has ever seen.

It reminds him of his wilder years when he was much younger. He was only twenty-one when his daughter Lian was born. It was just five years ago, but it already feels like a whole different lifetime.

There is nothing that could stop Roy to help others as Arsenal, but sure thing, Lian made him rethink a lot of dangerous situations he put himself into. His priorities changed with his daughter’s birth.

She is simply over anything else.

It is difficult for Roy to understand Bruce Wayne’s behavior then. He would not have been stopped, not even by Superman himself, to spare the life of his daughter’s killer.

If it would even come down to it.

Jason is mostly a quiet man, contrary to popular belief. Roy is almost always doing the vast majority of the talking when they are together. Jaybird is a much better listener although he struggles to keep in touch whenever they are apart.

As his closest friend, Roy knows just how deeply affected he was by his father’s actions.

Maybe the days where they had a stronger bad blood were left behind in the past, but the psychological aftermath of that dark period on Jason’s mind is still fresh.

He doesn’t talk a lot about it, but once, only once, Jason drunkenly admitted to Roy that he mostly wishes he would have remained dead.

Roy had laughed it off, almost as drunk as Jason himself, but then his best friend reiterated his opinion and expressed to him that he didn’t understand why Bruce had choose him as a ward. He would never been as bright as Dick, Jason said, nor as smart as Tim or even as skilled as Damian.

Roy can see so much of himself of Jason’s story, as sometime, in the far past, Oliver Queen called him a failure too. When he lost himself to addictions, those same thoughts went in Roy’s mind.

What could have him say to his best friend in that instant? Nothing could mend the fact that for Bruce there were nothing more important than his own mission, not even his children. As a father, Roy couldn’t understand him. Really.

Some people say Roy talks way too much, but that is only because they couldn’t listen the number of thoughts that went over his head on a daily basis. He wishes he could make them stop the majority of the time. If only he could shut his mind down whenever he felt like it. No. He always overanalyzes anything and everything.

The elevator ride back to the apartment is calm. An older lady takes it at the same time as him and they briefly chat about the weather and HOA. He fakes a whole story, saying he is visiting one of his sisters and that he has never been in town.

The lady takes off at the same time a hurriedly Jason enters the elevator clacking a copy of Alia’s keys between his fingers.

“We gotta go” Jason hastily says “Oracle found something good on a radio transmission.”

Chapter Text

“Have you forgotten the lessons I taught you?” A woman’s silky voice emerged throughout the darkness “He's still a threat until he's dead"

A pair of emerald-greened eyes pointed at her. Dressed from head to toe in an all-black attire. There was a sword resting at one of the sides of her hips. Her gaze was captivating. She was the most beautiful woman Alia had seen on her entire life.

“Mercy has a price”

Those are not her memories.

Waking up from a nightmare, Alia knows the images she saw on her dreams don’t belong to her past nor to her imagination. It is crystal clear: They are Jason’s memories.

I know you’re watching mine as well.

It isn’t unusual for soulmates to share a lot more than just a particularly strong sense of affinity. The most common thing is to feel the other’s emotions, sometimes even hear some faint thoughts inside one’s mind. Dreaming of past memories is far more uncommon.

As she grips to the fabrics of her shirt, Alia tries to compose herself and stand up on her own. She fails. The floor where feels cold on her skin.

Jason hadn’t told Alia a lot about his life before her. He tried, but words never seemed to come up on the way he would like.

It began at the same time they started to do their little sleepovers together. It was purely platonic, Alia swore. They spent a lot of nights together because she got off work really late and once they got into her condo, Alia didn’t love the idea of Jason driving back all on his own. Even if he always insisted he’d be fine.

They rarely spent the whole night together. Mostly a few hours where they laid together and talked for a bit until she fell asleep and he disappeared to go on patrol or whatever it was that he did at night (Alia wasn’t brave enough to ask the true details about his nocturnal activities).

Jason called them half sleepovers and they were fun. It was their weekly sessions of cuddles and gossip.

Jason wasn’t the talkative nonchalant man he showed everyone else when it came to his own feelings and past.

Sure, he would crack a joke here and there or say some weird reference that probably only his siblings could understand. It was the furthest he’d usually go with people.

But on their half sleepovers? Jason really tried to talk. He gapped and babbled. He used weird examples and almost never got to the point.

Alia thought he spoke in riddles in purpose at first, to make himself appear more mysterious, then she understood those were just very complicated topics for him.

“Lia I-” He told her one late night “I used to be, uh, I-” He stuttered and then took a deep breath to contemplated her with those electric eyes of his “There’s things that I’ve done, uh… Things I can’t change, I-”

Her fingers stuck on the threads of her shirt. It used to be her favorite shade of pink. Now it has dirt stains all over it. Maybe some blood from herself too. How long has it been since the accident? Maybe two days or so? Her headache is killing her. Alia feels her fingers’ circulation pulsating against her skin and shudders.

She always takes great care of her hands. As a surgeon in training, they are her greatest tool.

As she breathes warm air into her weak fingers, Alia remembers all the times she avoided things like playing volleyball when she was younger or going to the university’s gym or trying to escalate when her old friends invited her.

It was all to take care of her beloved hands.

She is obsessed. Of fucking course. Her career is her. Her identity. Her life. Alia left everything behind her to achieve her goal. It is so deeply ingrained into her that it is harsh to remember she was a real person herself before she was a doctor.

She struggled to feel affinity for the people outside her family and a few friends. Alia always felt like an outsider living her own life. She couldn’t understand others with the same easiness normal individuals seemed to do.

People often didn’t understand her either. Not even her family did. Not completely.

She is too infatuated. Too cold. Too frigid. One goal. One track of mind. It helped her achieved a lot of things, but it led her to live a life full of solitude.

She has lived on her own for a long, long time.

When she met Jason, it all suddenly changed. He was just like her, in a way. He also struggled to feel included. He cared deeply about the people he loved but didn’t know how to properly express it in words. But he was also really different. He was as street smart as he was book smart. He had a practical sense for everything. He was way more conscious than her.

They understood each other. They were just fine together.

She is no longer alone. She is no longer a freak. She has Jason and Jason has her. She cannot let him down.

Alia breathes in deeply. Her gastric acids dance inside her stomach. It has been a long time since she eat anything. Her last meal was a dry sandwich from the hospital cafeteria and a cup of coffee. It has been a least forty-four hours since then, probably more. It's hard for her to keep track of time in that small room.

Her body is letting her know it needs any kind of fuel to keep going properly.

“It’s no good you aren’t eating”

Jason stands in front of her. He is using his brownish jacket and a loose gray hoodie under it. Alia had bought it for him on her way back from work a few weeks ago and he hasn’t stopped using it ever since.

“I-I…” She struggles to stutter, but then suddenly a brief moment of reflection strikes her “You aren’t you”

She couldn’t feel him. Not in the way she always does when he is around. Jason’s presence is warm and comforting. Alia can always tell when he is anywhere near her because she feels it inside her. He can tell it too. They are soulmates after all. They are always going to be.

She is not thinking straight. Three days with a perpetual headache affects her right sense of mind. Not eat just helps her delirious spiral forward as well.

Is she going insane? Probably.

Alia hadn’t even realized how long has it been since she was firstly infected with the drug she made. Well, maybe make isn’t the proper term. She hasn’t discovered any of its components. She only calculated the right dosages.

Either way, it is hard to tell the reality from the hallucinations.

Two men enter the room. Alia can’t tell if there are the same men from before or it is a different pair. They are dressed in the same attire and use the same clown masks.

“Get up. You have somewhere to go”

Alia  watches them when one grabs her by the arm. They are an odd pair. There isn’t nothing really specific she can put her eyes on. The cops will ask her for details when she gets out. She has to get out. Alia tries to focus on something to identify them.

As she is dragged into a long hallway, Alia coughes. A deep, dry cough. Her throat burns. The liquid had not been designed to be ingested directly. She is sure to have damage to her vocal cords and some part of her pharynx. Breathing deeply hurts.

Alia takes a couple of clumsy steps, doing her best to keep up with the pace at which the two men walk. They pull her along without regard to the uncoordinated state she is in.

The hallway is lit with warm artificial light but it offers Alia no comfort. Her battered body is working on its energy reserves and her mind misses the familiarity of the blue-tinted lights of her hospital.

One of the men lets go of her arm as they come to a new room. A different one. It seems to be the last in the long line. The other man pushes the door open. It moves with a high-pitched whine.

“Get inside”

The room is predominantly dark. A single lamp casts a dim light on a single, solitary chair in the middle of it. There is a wood chair that looks like its soaked with something darker than water. On the armrests, there are a couple of loose ropes.

Alia immediately understands that whatever awaited her is not anything good.

She is not an expert on the subject, but she has seen enough horror movies to know that small rooms and roped chairs only mean torture.

“N-No. Not this” Alia begs “, please”

Her captor does not like begging, Alia can tell. Beneath his clown mask, his dark eyes move with hatred.

She cowers like a little kid and leans over to the side of the captor who opened the door before. While the man does not seem to feel any kind of animosity towards her, he does not seem as merciless as the other one.

She doesn’t know what she expects the other man to do. Does she want him to have a spontaneous change of heart? He absolutely does not. He just gives her a sleepy look and shakes her off him.

The taller man narrows his dark eyes beneath the holes in his mask. His eyes are the only visible part of his entire face, and Alia notices that his pupils are exaggeratedly dilated in a symmetrical way, something common with many disorders, but especially common in those who are high.

“I’ll took the baby and gauge his eyes” The man immediately says “, that is unless you go inside. What do you choose?”

The menace rumbles deep within her bones. She doesn't know where Akiko and Domi are. She avoids thinking about them too much, because every thought that comes to her is completely terrifying.

They are both just children, especially Domi. Alia promised to take care of them both. She failed them before . Now she has to think with a cold head.

She is the adult. The only adult amongst the three of them. She has to protect them.

Even if there is no guarantee that the thugs would keep their promise, she can't afford to make them even angrier. 

Is there any other option?, Alia thinks. The decision, if there is even one to begin with, has already been made.

Alia prays. She isn't even sure who she is praying to, but she has nowhere else to turn. She is locked away in a corridor at the end of the world with few, if any, options.

Give me the strength to survive this. She pleads mentally. Let me get back to my home. Let me get back to my family.

Her whole body is shaking. She is almost certain she won't be able to stand on her own for much longer.

Let me get back to my boy, Alia prays.

“I-” She looks up at their captor. “I-I’ll do it”

As she takes  one step forward, Alia can’t hear anything except from her own shallow breaths and Jason’s whimpers in the back of her mind.

Chapter Text

“Y’know not every problem can be solved with a gun, right?”

Roy Harper is probably one of Jason’s strangest friends.

“I do know.” Red Hood argues back “That’s why I carry two guns.”

Roy was once Green Arrow’s protégé and a former member of the Outlaws, Jason’s own crime-fighting group. The resemblance the redhead shared with Oliver Queen feels uncanny to Tim.

Despite his best opinions, it is a good thing Roy Harper us there. His mere presence lightens Jason’s mood. Even if it is just for little specs of time. He seems content around the redhead well enough to mutter his usual sarcastic comments. They are so much better than the perpetual silence that Jason established after Alia’s kidnapping.

Roy Harper fell out of grace from his mentor’s ways a long time ago, but the way which he holds himself around Gotham’s streets reminds Tim too much of all the things he knows about Oliver Queen.

Arsenal is somehow a new addition to the team. Nothing really proper neither recognized. Just a temporal addition bu t it's good to have him.

His lighthearted comments are a nice touch to the impromptu trio.

Oracle’s lead has driven them to an old chemical factory. She hasn’t given them many details, just explained that there was a mention of Alia’s name in an encrypted radio transmission she had decipher earlier.

Tim has more of information but not the entire extension of the news. The lack of advances they were having was driving him insane and he had to take manners into his own hands. They proud themselves to be pretty smarts. They have to keep up with it.

With or without Batman.

It is a good thing Roy Harper is in Gotham working alongside them. Not just because an extra pair of hands would be really useful if the situation required it, but also because Tim knows he is their best option to keep Jason’s remaining sanity on track when shit hits the fan.

Even if Red Robin doesn’t know the full extent of what Oracle found on her search, he had seen a fragment of the video she found.

Tim has grown keen of Alia. Bruce and him researched on her beforehand and she seemed like a fairly decent woman.

No hidden skeletons on the closet. No second intentions. No tragic backstory.

Tim respects the outwardly amount of patience she has on herself to be able to deal with Jason’s ever-present clinginess towards her. Whenever they were together, Jason needed to be around her like a moth flying around a nightlamp.

With time, Alia showed to be a true good person. She was kind enough to always help Tim stich up his injuries without asking questions nor lecturing him, as Dr. Thompkins often does.

Maybe she is too naïve to live on Gotham City by her own, as she liked to wonder around dangerous alleys without a second thought nor any previous research (It drove Jason crazy to keep her safe), but she is a smart woman overall.

Watch her finally get caught up on the city’s criminal affairs was stressful. Red Robin heard her screaming her lungs out as two men kneeled down to punch her on the floor.

She wears the same work clothes she had on when she first disappeared after her hospital shift. Using only video evidence, there is no way to tell how long ago it had been recorded.

Red Hood and Arsenal are caught up on some shitty talk that Red Robin can’t focus on. His thoughts are battling around, putting clues together to form as many theories as quick as possible.

There are many likelihoods about what is happening, but Timothy Drake knows better than to diffuse their humanly forces on covering the most obvious spots. Bruce has taught him better.

The amount of people needed to achieve an operation of that size couldn’t appear from thin air. Kidnap three people in broad daylight and possibly capture the Batman himself require some serious work.

The goons have to come from somewhere that already let them to have loose morals and be quick to act.

Jason suggested inspecting Maroni’s thugs, as the main head was incarcerated by a conjoint operation between Batman, Nightwing and Red Hood a few months earlier.

Orphan and Spoiler currently work on it. They have looked around many, many places but most of Maroni’s men are dead, or on the run. The few that are left don’t have a lot of information either.

As often happens, Oracle’s work resulted the most useful.

She used her abilities to search through and through any records that could give them any light. Then she finally found something on an encrypted radio transmission that then led her to a private server that contained Alia’s video record.

“We are in” Red Robin declares through his comm.

They are entering a chemical factory building. Their job is to found the physical servers where the original video was first uploaded. The technology used is quite ancient and hardly has any presence on the web so this is their best shot at gaining more insight on the file’s metadata.

“Great” Oracle says through the comm “You just need to insert the USB on the server and I’ll do the rest

It is a fairly simple task. The building has no greater security than a handful of inexperienced men, who certainly do not expect to be interrupted in their nightly activities. Fighting all those unskilled goons between three vigilantes feels almost unfair.

“Looking good on your first day, man” Red Hood tells to Arsenal “You didn’t even break a sweat”

The building is not particularly big. It's divided primarily into three or four large rooms per floor. They soon realize that most of the places are empty or filled with trash.

“Maybe Gotham isn’t that bad” Roy Harper answers cheerfully “Don’t tell Hill Watch I say that”

Listening to the best friends chatting so casually lightens Tim’s mood as well.

At first, he had not been entirely on board with Jason’s involvement in the mission but while everyone's paranoia grew since Bruce disappeared, Jason's rationality only had significantly declined since his soulmate's kidnapping.

“Hill Watch?”

Alia’s family tried to come to Gotham but the city’s entrances and exits are being thoughtfully watched by the police department as they are only letting the most essentials workers in and out until Joker is apprehended again.

It was a difficult conversation to have. Jason personally called Alia's father to tell him the bad news and that same afternoon he relegated himself in his apartment without answering the family’s multiple aims of contact.

“Our group chat”

Red Robin lets out a brief laugh at Arsenal’s clarification. They are already searching the third floor on the building and so far, they hadn’t found anything close to a computer, nor even a laptop or a suspicious metallic box. Nothing.

A brief vibration on the air catches Tim's attention, the distinctive sound of electricity crackling from the motor of a sturdy, old digital cooling fan coming from one of the two doors they yet have to check.

Then, the mumbled sound of female screams cutting through the air verifies Red Robin’s deductions.

He puts a finger over his lips to signal to the others that the moment of their cheerful conversation has ceased.

He walks over to the closest door and, in a rush of adrenaline, effectively kicks the door down.

The sight that greets them was exactly what Timothy Drake feared: A primarily empty room with several archaic servers stacked against a wall.

There is also a man sitting in a chair, who is interrupted mid-typing some information reflected on the screen of an ancient computer.

The strange man lets out a small laugh that is mostly filled with nervousness. He looks like a child who just got caught doing a prank. His pale skin reflects the blue tint from the computer’s light.

Another fragment of the video Tim saw is displayed on the screen. This time, Alia is tied to a chair and two infamously known individuals approach the girl.

The situation is way worse than he originally suspected.

Red Hood stands still a few feet apart from the electronic device, but he is entirely able to watch the whole recording from his point of view. It comes to Tim’s attention how tighter the grip over his guns’ handles grows.

“No”

Jason is too quick for any of them to be able to stop him. He moves in silence and without hesitation.

He rushes to hit the man’s face and his bones crack at the first hit with an audible sound. It is the force of his pure rage what takes the man off his chair with easiness.

“Do you think this shit funny?” He spits out

Even on his weakest days, Red Hood’s physical traits overpowered any of them: He is bigger, stronger and faster. And he knows it. He is angry.

Red Robin could try to stop him, but he has been easily overpowered by a rageful Jason before and that isn’t an experience he is willing to repeat. Specially to stop him from hitting some Joker’s goon in a no life-threatening whack.

Although Jason isn’t on his best moment, Tim could notice he still holds up his punches.

The little man is still breathing and there is a nervously smile in between his lips as he parts them.

“Batman doesn’t kill”

Shit.

“Do I look like fUCKING BATMAN TO YOU?”

The man quickly realizes his fatal mistake. By hus words, Arsenal and Red Robin try to get between Red Hood's fingers and the trigger of his gun.

He aims a shot at the man's left arm, which penetrates the flesh with dry violence. The man screams at the sudden hit of pain.

“Where do you have her?”

For a brief moment, Tim feels relief knowing that Jason aimed at a non-vital structure when he could have easily scored a perfectly clean headshot.

“I-I do-don’t k-know” The man stutters “I j-just started t-tonight”

The brief relief vanishes immediately when Red Hood pulls the man off the ground to hung half of his body out the window frame.

“Talk” He commands “Where is she?”

Red Hood looks at the man. His eyes twitch under the mask’s lights.

The man looks painfully small next to Red Hood’s 6’2 frame, especially when he is hanging half-down from the window frame, shaking and bleeding.

“It’s all I know! I swear! Please!” The goon begs “Spare me! I-I don’t know anything else I swear! I won't tell no one! I’ll leave Gotham! Never show my face again. Anywhere you want. I’ll be gone”

One single move and the man would end up on the concrete ground three stories below them. 

“How about you go to hell?” Jason spits out “Say hi to Joker for me”

Red Robin knows his brother too well. He knows to anticipate what he would do when his rage gets to the best of him. Tim grabs the man by the shirt, pulling him aside to get him out of the way of the fatal kick that Red Hood rushes in to deliver.

“If you kill him, we won’t know where she is”

The man's whimpers add an extra layer of suffering to the multiple background sounds. Red Robin wants to feel sorry for him, but the only feeling bubbling up inside him is distress.

“Joker likes to play with us like food” Red Hood says “She is not dead”

Red Robin let go of the man’s shirt and as he splashes the ground beneath, Jason stands motionless aside them. He is inhaling and exhaling in a dreadfully audible way but he doesn’t try to get ahead with his murderous intentions.

“He likes to give us hope” Jason mutters under his breath “, just so he can rip it from us”

Alia’s recording is still playing on the background. Her screams are repeating in a nonstop loop like an agonic symphony.

Jason’s gloves drip in the man’s blood and they stain the computer screen as he gets closer to touch Alia’s image inside the device.

“Red Hood?” Tim can’t help but ask “Are you okay?”

Maybe there aren’t the closest on the family, but Tim still cares deeply about Jason.

They were off to a rash start but throughout the years they grew closer. They hold a mutual understanding on some things that the others do not share.

Timothy Drake can’t help but worry about the man he has grown to consider his brother.

“Give him space. He’s hyperventilating” Roy tells Tim as he walks closer to Jason, interposing his body between the two of them “He can’t breathe”

Chapter Text

“Please” Alia begs “I can’t breathe”

Harley Quinn stands in front her in her signature outfit: a tight two-tone circus suit.

"Don't do this. Please"

Her mouth is dry. Alia tastes the metallic tint of the blood that flows from her burst lips. One of the men had hit her with a closed fist when she had refused to be tied to the only chair in the room.

She doesn't have a high pain threshold. Every single blow she'd taken in the past few days had hit nerve endings she didn't even know she had.

Alia was used to her quiet life. Her mundane problems. The most difficult part of her day was saving the lives of her patients.

She was raised in a bubble where everything was good and nice. Many people had told Alia that her parents protected her way too much growing up that she'd learned nothing about the hardships of life.

Jason often laughed at her lack of awareness but her parents did their best to keep her and all of her siblings safe. They'd raised them as good southern citizens, with deep values ​​of family and helping others.

Ma and Pa never supported any violent behavior. Shouting during fights was not even allowed in their house. All conflicts were resolved through well-structured conversations.

She has never been in such position before. Harley Quinn is really a psychopath, as Dr. Elliot warned her before.

She is locked in a tiny room at the end of the world with a psychopath holding a plier in front of her head.

Everything blurs up in her mind. Alia isn't even sure how much time has passed since they locked her in there and threw away the key. The dim yellow light bulb shines dimmer over their faces.

“Hello hello lovebird!”

Harley's voice is unnaturally high-pitched. Definitely not her true voice tone.

Harley sways her hips. She is slim and slender like a TV model. She has such gaze that hold a pair of blue eyes with deep boldness.

Alia has been told before that Harley is extremely intelligent. Taking a closer look to her eyes makes her not sure of it.

Should she answer? Alia is too scared to say anything. Even if she tried, the words would not be able to come out of her mouth.

Alia does not understand why they are doing it.

Before Harley Quinn arrived, the men pounced on her. She had been punched, grabbed by the hair and slammed against the wall. They kicked her abdomen and squeezed her breasts.

To break her. They wanted to make her cry. Take her to the breaking point.

Alia entered the room under coercion. That would be the legal term. Her mind disconnected from her body at some point during the beating. Everything that happened after that felt very distant to her. That didn't make her any less scared.

The men despaired her lack of cooperation, but she couldn't sit in a chair where she knew she would be tortured. Her body didn’t obey her. Even if she had tried to force her limbs to move, they wouldn’t respond to her.

The pain after the beating had been so atrocious that a scream had erupted from her throat. The men had been disgusted by the sound. They punched her in the cheek with such force that she is now unable to open her right eye.

Time had gone by painfully slow. She couldn't move after it. Alia stood motionless in front of the chair for longer than her captors would have liked. They left the room as soon as Harley entered with her mischievous smile.

Harley Quinn watches Alia with the same cheerfulness as a child looks at the new puppy they had been gifted.

“Do you wanna me to call ya’ doctor?” The woman asks “We’re colleagues after all”

A chill rund down her spine as she heard the woman's words. The cold oxygen entering her system burns her lungs.

Alia could cry. She wants Jay. Her Jay. She wants him there. Breaking down the door and taking her away from that place. She wants him to greet her with his strange jokes. To be able to feel his familiar body heat against her skin.

But they couldn't win forever, right? Sooner or later, something would happen to them. Alia was aware of that. She just didn't expect it to be like this.

When she made the decision to move to Gotham to start the residency she always dreamed of, Alia had been aware that it was only a matter of time before she fell victim to crime. It was a mere matter of statistics.

The anguish is killing her on its own. Not knowing what Harley Quinn plans to do with her is worse than only being in her presence. Anxiety grips her chest with a torrential force that squeezes her lungs tightly.

Harley waves those mechanical pliers with enormous teeth before inserting them under the tender flesh beneath Alia's nail bed.

The nail on her pinky finger snaps from the force of the tug. It flies off in one bloody jerk. Harley smiles playfully at the sight of the torn piece.

Alia screams. A scream so profound that it makes her sore throat go raw. There is no one to help her cries.

No one could help her there. For the first time in a long time, she is completely alone again. Without her parents. Without her siblings. Without Jason.

“N-Not my hands” Alia cries out loud “I c-can’t w-work without them. Please”

Harley Quinn looks amused by the scene at her lips, but the emotion doesn't quite make it to her eyes. They are filled with pure coldness.

“Surgery is it then?” Harley Quinn cheerfully asks “Me myself? I prefer clinical specialties a lot more!” As she pinchs her bloody nailbed with her fingertip, she adds “Have you ever consider applying for psychiatry?”

Alia sobs. Her words blur into the emptiness of the room. Harley seems to enjoy making her suffer.

There is nothing to do. There is nowhere to run. She is painfully aware at the present moment.

Alia keeps telling herself to be strong but her spirit is just as tired as her body. The lack of food and water is taking a toll on her sanity.

She has to be focused to face whatever is coming her way. The physical torture plays with the last threads of sanity she has left but she has to survive. No matter the cost.

She has to come back to her home. Her story can’t end in some shitty room at the end of the world. No. She hasn’t sacrifice everything in vain. She always had one goal and she will accomplish it.

Alia has to come back to Gotham. She has to graduate. She has to become a great doctor. Help her people.

Harley Quinn isn't content with just ripping off her pinky fingernail. No. She laughs and skillfully sets to rip off her middle fingernail as well.

Alia screams again. Going back and forth through different states of consciousness. From dizziness to daze to pure stupor. She grips the wood of the armrest with ferocity. The material splintering beneath her fingers.

I can’t die there, Alia thinks to herself.

Harley Quinn seems satisfied enough at her screams. She moves, humming a song between her lips.

From a slit in her tight suit, Harley pulls out a switchblade. The object gleams with a metallic sheen in the dim light of the room.

“Pumpkin pie!” A male voice breaks the scene “What are you doing, dear?”

The door opens with a heavy creak. The owner of the voice is a tall, long man.

Between her watery eyes, Alia observes his abnormally pale skin and the wide length of his smile. Her breath freezed inside her lungs as she shrinks in the chair.

Alia isn't a Gothamite, but the man standing before her is probably one of the most famous faces in the country. It's impossible to not recognize him.

Joker.

Harley cheers but she doesn’t greet the man properly. She gets closer to hold the blade against the soft skin on the inner part of Alia’s neck. That sensitive part where the sternocleidomastoid muscle is. Alia feels her blood pulsing against her arteries.

“Hey puddin’!” Harley says “I’m just warming up the meal”

The green-haired man’s grin only grows bigger as he watches the both of them together. The criminal is a tall man, perhaps as tall as Jason himself. He is long and lean. His cheekbones stand out sharply against the shadows in the room.

He is saying something. Joker’s lips are moving as he cradles a bundle.

“When Red Hood asks where his girl is” Harley whispers against Alia’s ears, licking her neck with that warm tongue of hers “Only the night and us will know”

To her utter horror, Alia recognizes the baby between his arms.

Dominicus' half-opened eyes wander around the room as he fights to stay awake. He doesn't seem to recognize her.

Harley Quinn says something back to the man. She sounds angry. Alia can't grasp the full extent of what is being said. The murmur of voices around her is transforming into a whistle that only grows louder as the seconds passed.

Tinnitus. That is the medical term.

Alia can't take her eyes off Domi. The baby boy looks like he has aged several years in just a matter of days.

His once cheerful green eyes have darkened. His face is swollen. There are prominent sores on the sides of his neck.

Alia tries to inhale deeply, but oxygen does no longer reach her lungs. A wet, hot ball clenchs around her chest like an invisible hand squeezing her throat.

The whistling in her ears drowns out every other sound, even that of her own heart pounding wildly against her ribcage. The air in that small room at the end of the world have become thicker.

"Are you a good doctor?"

Joker comes in closer to inspect her face. A splinter lodges in her left thumb as Alia tightens her hands around the arms of the wooden chair she is strapped into. Joker's breath is cold and smells of green apples.

Having his eyes so near on her is unnerving. She feels like he can read every one of her deepest secrets with a glance. By that point, Joker surely is eager to make her worst fears come true.

“I said,” he repeats “Are you a good doctor?”

Joker has gray eyes and no eyelashes. His pupils are constricted to a tiny point in the center of his irises. He lacks eyebrows as well. There are many scars over his pale skin. Alia guesses he was burned by something that never properly healed.

By all the stories, Alia expected to find a maniac, but this Joker breaks the mold. He is a smiling lunatic, but his body reveals a different truth: He knows exactly what he is doing.

To look at him is to peer into the abyss.

A feeling of loss of control grips Alia, who is overcome by a profound sense of vertigo, as if she is about to fall off the edge of a cliff.

“Harls told me you’re a prodigy,” he keeps going. “Youngest medical resident in all of Gotham history.” Joker says, “I bet you are really good.”

Alia holds the wooden arms between her trembling fingers, grasping for anything that could restore the mental stability she so desperately needs.

I have to go back to Gotham, she tells herself. I have to graduate. I have to be a great doctor. Help my people.

The touch of Harley Quinn’s hands is icy against her skin as they untie her. At some point in the conversation, they'd decided to let her go, but Alia is sure it isn't for any good reason.

"I-I am."

Parting her lips apart is a whole ordeal. The corners of her mouth draws back even more and its delicate skin starts to break. She can't control the timid tremble in her voice.

She has been freed from the ropes that imprisoned her limbs, and technically, if she'd wanted to, she would have been able to get up from her seat.

But she couldn't. Instead, Alia shrinks back in her chair, unable to tear her gaze away from the man in front of her.

"You're a coward just like he was."

Joker's words take her by surprise. More because she could still hear his languid voice amid the clamor of the whistling in her head and the pounding of her heart.

She remains silent. She doesn't quite know what to say. She could sense he is talking about Jason. He'd probably run into him at some point during his patrol. Perhaps they'd had a fight.

“Your lovebird, silly,” Joker says, and then he puts a hand over his mouth, playfully. “Hadn’t he told ya? We’ve met before. Him and I,” he tells her. “We had the most fun.”

She doesn't know. Jason never spoke about it and Alia didn't ask him either.

Joker is so close to her that his icy breath hits the skin of Alia’s face. She only perceives the bigger sensations. Everything else is overshadowed by that outrageous whistling on her ears and the need to somehow get some air into her collapsing lungs.

Jason’s indirect mention strucks a sensitive chord within Alia's ever racing mind.

“I have a feeling you could enjoy the same kind of parties”

Chapter Text

“Mother”

The imposing figure of the always solemn Talia al Ghul reveals herself before her eldest son. Her sharp gaze and upright posture remain as uncompromising as the last time the boy met her.

“Hello Damian”

He is able to sense her presence in the room long before she reveals herself to him. A pang in the back of his neck that tells him someone is carefully watching as he immersed himself in reviewing dozens of digital files that has been recovered from the Joker’s servers.

The woman has her hands crossed in front of her chest, resting on the shiny material of her custom-made outfit. The luxurious, finely cut white fabric powerfully highlights the tanned tone of her skin.

“You have been following me.”

Damian’s mother looks at him gently. Her green eyes, so identical to his own, bend for a moment as she looks at him. To the untrained eye of any novice observer, the gesture would have been too quick to capture, but for Damian, no detail is too small. Especially when it comes down to his mother.

“I have been observing,” Talia remarks. “I cannot fathom what people like so much about this city.”

It is ridiculous for her to even mention the city, especially when they both know it is the least of her worries when deciding to come.

“You had not come visit in two whole years, and yet here you are now,” he sharply says. “I know why you are here.”

Someone has to broach the elephant in the room, and Damian hates beating around the bushes when talking important matters. He knows his mother appreciates that kind of treatment, no matter how much she pretends otherwise.

“I don’t care about this city,” she answers. “, but I care about you two.”

You two. The words stab like daggers into Damian’s chest. His mother has a very particular way of showing affection, and his little brother seemed to have fallen on the furthest side of Talia's affection scale.

"He is not here. You know that."

Outside that room, the mansion remains vacant. It is desolately empty without Domi's laughter and his hurried stomping. Even the pets have subsided without the baby's presence.

"I let Dominicus come because I understood he'd be safer here."

Damian remembers that moment he went to find his brother on Nanda Parbat. He spoke with his mother by himself, solely to convince her to take a newborn away from that dangerous environment, since rumors of an uprising against them within the League of Assassins were only growing stronger with each day.

But now, if he can allow himself to be completely honest with his feelings, Damian only feels lost.

"Father is gone, Mother."

The weight of the words he spoke falls on his shoulders. He has not been able to sleep peacefully for days. He is experiencing an emotion that has previously seemed foreign to him: anxiety.

“You came to this city because you wanted to protect people. Become a hero.”

Hero. A concept that dazzled him as a child because of how vastly different it was from everything he had been taught growing up, but now, Damian finds very difficult to fully consider himself a hero after so many failures.

“I am,” he asserts confidently. The last thing he would do is admit his mistakes in front of his mother.

“Do you truly believe that?”

He falls silent at her words. Damian feels his right eyelid flutter as he lowers his head, unable to meet his mother's steady gaze.

He can feel her disappointment falling on him even if he is not looking directly at her.

“He’s out there right now, Damian. Poisoning this city and killing the people you have sworn under your protection.” Talia says. “He has your soulmate and your brother, and yet you are here reading documents.”

Damian al Ghul is not exactly known for being a docile boy, but his mother’s harsh words have always managed to have that effect on him. Especially when they are true.

He has become weak. Relegated to working under his father’s methods, even when they proved not to be the most effective in many cases.

“I want to know how long it takes before you stop him.”

Damian knows his mother. He knows her power of deterrence, and the way she achieves many of her goals through efficient communication.

“You say stop,” he says. “, but you mean kill.”

“I do.”

Talia al Ghul is a princess. In many places, her word is the only law. She has armies at her command, and what many call magic as well. She would expect nothing less from her first-born son.

Presenting herself before him with her gentle, missive words is her way of convincing him to finally achieve the goal for which he had truly been sent to the city: to take his place as the rightful heir.

But Gotham isn't one of those places that fall to the word of the al Ghul’s, not even Damian's.

The city belongs solely to Batman.

"I should have known death is the only language you speak."

The woman reachs out to him, holding her son's face in her warm hands. The gold necklace she wears around her neck gleams under the computer light.

"My dear child," Talia al Ghul softly whispers, "It is our mother tongue."

Chapter Text

Hell has broken loose in Gotham.

In the midst of all the chaos, an anonymous woman has been caught up in it. It matters next to nothing how she'd ended up working on the wrong side of history

She was deeply in debt and had few options.

She was a compulsive gambler.

She'd spent her meager college fund on alcohol.

It really doesn’t matter.

There are few rules in Gotham, but the most important one is to be on the side of whoever is in control of the city. You have to switch to stay alive.

The woman’s hands are coarse. A lifetime of working as a maid and handling large quantities of chemical cleaning products have aged her skin to the point where it is barely equivalent to her biological age.

She'd learned how to handle delicate chemicals the hard way. Perhaps that's why they'd contacted her in the first place. Surely, she fit the bill for such a job: Poor, vulnerable, and with practical knowledge in the right areas.

An old acquaintance offered her the opportunity after hearing about her situation. He'd made it clear to her that it was quick money. Not clean, not safe, but all money was green at the end of the day.

She knows she shouldn't be doing it. Any person with half a brain knows what she is doing is stupidly dangerous.

Of all the twists and turns her life had taken, she never would have expected to work for the Joker himself. If she'd known from the start, she wouldn't have agreed. Would she even have the chance to refuse the clown of crime anything?

She has a partner with her, Dave, a small man who couldn't stop talking. He sounds quite young. Maybe he isn't even through his late teens.

They aren't supposed to exchange names, but after several days working side by side, Dave couldn't help but introduce himself and strike up a conversation to make the endless hours they spend cleaning up toxic waste more enjoyable.

Dave has a deep voice. His intonation is melodic. He speaks loudly. He enjoys gossip.

She rather to focus on his voice. In his soft eyes. In his inexperienced hands. Focusing on guiding him serves to distract herself from the moral considerations that comes with working for the Joker.

Certain considerations of the job are hard to escape, like the female screams that filled the corridor in the past few hours.

They were doing something horrible to another woman, and the room they were holding her in definitely wasn't soundproof.

Now, the woman feels a certain affection for the young man. He is pleasant. His comments and bits of gossip undoubtedly improve the work environment.

“I heard she’s a young doctor,” Dave says. “Like, really young”

They are both kneeling on the floor trying to unhinge a jammed drawer containing several vials labeled with bombastic names like “propranolol,” “chloroform,” and “norepinephrine.” All controlled drugs that have surely been obtained illegally.

“Why would they want a young doctor here?”

It had been almost unbearable spending the night cleaning with her screams in the background. She knows it is a woman from the high-pitched voice of her pleas. The thin walls of the room were insufficient to contain the sounds she emitted in her pain.

“They're modifying the toxin or something,” Dave adds, his voice a whisper. “That's what some guys told me when I went out for a smoke yesterday.”

Dave is definitely a social butterfly. It’s just the way he is. He loves to gossip with everybody.

“Uh.”

Under another kind of circumstances, the woman would also enjoy a good conversation among colleagues. At that exact moment? She doesn't know what else to add.

A kidnapping on Gotham isn't something that surprises her. Especially not coming from Joker.

To ease her conscience, the woman tells herself that the doctor is probably still alive, because no one else left the room since last night. If there was a body, it would be having a rotten smell by now. And they'd probably have to clean it up. Yeah. The doctor is probably still pretty much alive. She rather to not to think about it too much.

“They said she's very good,” Dave says. “I think it's horrible that she's ending up here. They told me she was going to be a neurosurgeon.”

The word neurosurgeon makes her stop her moving hands. The woman lets out a sarcastic laugher. Life and its mysterious ways surprise her more every day.

Gotham is known for its doctors, but she highly doubts there are too many young female neurosurgeons in the city.

“Now that's something to see,” the woman replies. “What are the odds?”

Dave looks at her with a frown and parts his lips, about to ask her what she is referring to, when the intercom on his side beeps with a painfully high-pitched sound.

“Batman's on the building,” a male voice warns throughout the device. The panic in his words is tangible. “He's on the fucking building! OH MY G-”

The transmission cuts off abruptly. The voice doesn't even have time to finish his statement. The silence that follows fills the room with a tense calm.

“The fuck?” The woman asks out loud “Batman!? That shit’s real?”

Dave's brown eyes stares at her behind the clown mask that decorates his face. In just seconds, his determination ages him several years.

"It is," Dave severs. "Pack up. Let's go."

The Dark Knight. Defender of Gotham. Batman. He isn't a legend after all.

Unsynchronized movements and a lack of communication plagued the imperfect organization of the criminal clown. News like Batman appearance should have been communicated as soon as a stranger into the building was suspected.

It doesn't matter anymore.

Rumors said the bat has the ability to disappear into the darkness. The room they are in is well lit so it is a plus, the woman supposes. They are safe but time is surely against them. They can reach one of the exits, but then they would be encased by the night.

"Have this."

Dave hands her the bag in which they were previously placing bottles of medication. The woman hesitates. She wants to run feet first, but if she loses that job, Batman might as well kill her right then. Debts and collectors would kill her when she got home otherwise.

“Eliminate all hostages,” another voice commands through the intercom. “I repeat. Eliminate all hostages.”

The woman feels her blood pressure drop.

Eliminate?

Kill. They are going to kill the hostages. She didn't even know there were more than one.

Dave rushes to grab the last of the medications from the drawer when the woman stops to scan both sides of the hallway. Silently, her mind makes the decision before her consciousness can’t stop her.

She turns to run to the left. Dave yells something. It is a stupid decision. Of course, it is a stupid decision. All her life, she'd made the stupidest decisions possible. What is just one more?

She wouldn't be able to live in peace if she doesn't try anything.

The door is locked. The doorknob is locked. But a locked door isn't something that could stop her.

The woman lived in Crime Alley her entire life.

With a speed that only practice brings, she slides the lock onto the doorknob, using a technique she learned as a child burglarizing wealthy people. The door opens with a painful creak as the woman pushes it open.

The sight that greets her isn't what the woman expected. Or maybe it is. Is there anything that could surprise her at this point? A thin woman is crouching in a corner of the room, knees drawn up to her chest. She sobs.

"Dr. Gomez."

The girl raises her head, shaking. Strands of black hair falls over her crumpled forehead.

"You don't remember me,"

The woman quickly realizes. Half her plan was based on actions on the fly. She didn't stop to think about any details. Not even what to say to her. Fucking dumb. Just impulsive actions.

"My wife was sick. She was the marathoner who couldn't move her legs."

Despite her lanky appearance, that girl is undoubtedly Dr. Alia Gomez. She has that kind of face that is hard to forget. Her features are delicate and she has bright eyes despite being covered in mud. They stand out even against the many wet bloodstains on her face.

"Adelaide?"

The woman is surprised that the doctor remembers her soulmate's name. She doesn't know what she expected of her. The lanky girl in front of her bears little resemblance to the magnanimous doctor who helped them on that hospital visit more than eight months ago, but she still possesses her sharp mind, it seems.

"You convinced the other doctors to take the case. You sat with me to do the insurance," the woman quickly continues. "I didn't know we qualified for WayneAid. We wouldn't have been able to afford the surgery without it."

Alia Gomez blinks slowly a few times in her direction. She stands up quivering. In one of her hands, she holds a tattered vial that shakes profusely.

"Y-You brought me warm food."

The girl's voice hangs on by a thread. Her blue eyes dance around every corner of the room until they stop on the woman. Amongst her nervous breakdown, she seems to return to reality for a moment.

“Rotisserie chicken,” Alia mumbles. “I hadn’t eaten in thirteen hours, and you brought food. You treated me like I was a person.” She whispers “Ho-How could I forget?”

Alia’s blue eyes focuses on her. The woman wants to approach and simply pull her out. Start to run. She is afraid Alia Gomez would react badly.

“Are you here to hurt me?”

The delicacy of her words shocks the woman. She sounds just like a little girl. It makes her realized just how truly scared she is.

She doesn’t want to know what truly happened inside that room.

“No,” the woman answers. “I’m here to take you out.”

Alia nods timidly and decides to take a couple of shaky steps toward the exit. Her movements are fearful and slow. THEY COMING TO KILL YOU! The woman wants to yell at her, but she doubts it would help the situation.

Time runs against them. Batman is in the building, and he comes to deliver violence. He won’t care if they are good people or not; he would only see Joker collaborators.

How long do they have until someone comes to execute the explicit order the woman ignored? Alia Gomez looks every bit like one of the hostages the message referred to.

The woman takes one of Alia Gomez’ arms and pulls her back into the hallway. They both hurry clumsily toward the outskirts of the corridor that connects the east wing to the west wing.

She has to think. Just focus on thinking.

Alia Gomez has a double target on her back and the woman has freed her in a mad rush of empathy, but it’s obvious they can't stay together any longer.

"Listen to me," the woman says. "Can you run?"

Alia looks at her with her huge, doe-like eyes, and a pang of guilt pierces the woman's chest. Leaving her alone feels like abandoning a puppy in the middle of a fire.

She wants to help the doctor that once helped her family, a retribution of some sort -A debt that is now repaid- but she also wants to survive until the next day a lot more.

"Keep going this way. There's a door at the end that leads to the fire exit," she explains. "Run straight ahead as far as you can. There's a road nearby."

Alia Gomez nods, but her eyes reflect doubt. Her free hand is closed around the fabric of her clothing, and her grip tightens with the realization that she would be alone, but she doesn't say anything to her.

"Someone will help you," the woman says. "Go!"

Chapter Text

He woke up in a nightmare. Five men wearing plastic masks rush at him. They are shooting at him. They try to hit him. Screaming.

He defeats them easily despite his muscular exhaustion. The shots ricochet off the Kevlar of his suit.

“You’re late” One of the men mutters from the floor, half-smiling “Took you too long”

He'd like to say he holds back when he kicks him in the stomach to silence him. He'd like to admit that fatigue and confusion hasn't exacerbated his anger, but that isn't the truth. Deep down, he knows he isn't a good person.

A single dose of the adrenaline he carried in his suit for emergencies had caused his judgment to cloud. He is tired, but Batman can't stop.

The man twitches and spews a dark, thick liquid from his mouth. Blood.

“You won’t get to them in time”

Them? What is he referring to? For a brief moment, the thought of his children passes through his mind but it is hard to believe they would fall for it as he did. No. His children are far better than he is. Not as prideful. They would never leave each other alone.

“Where are they?”

Whoever there was, he could still make it on time. Otherwise, the man would not take the time to even mentioned it. The man is the only one left conscious on the floor. He is afraid to get killed. He is surely trying to negotiate.

A burst of gunfire alerts his senses. High-pitched screams emerge from one of the crosses in the corridor. The distinctive sound of blows against skin mingles with accelerated murmurs.

“It’s late Bat-man!” The man screams, laughing “YOU’RE LATE BATMAN!”

There is no point in staying with the man. Batman leaves him behind as he runs after the sound. Amongst all the shouts, one stands out above the crowd.

"Batman!" Intoned a high-pitched voice Bruce knows perfectly. "Batman!"

His steps quickens. He must be in the middle of a nightmare.

Once he arrives, Bruce realizes the man was referring to his youngest daughter-in-law.

Akiko's hair is a different color and her face drenches in blood, but it is unmistakably her. Her thin build shrinks from the sight of a goon looming over her. The barrel of his gun is positioned above his forehead.

She is cornered against one of the corridor's walls; beside her, the fresh corpse of an elderly man lays, strangled and inert on the floor.

He quickly grasps the deepness of the scene: It was an execution. Point-blank shots fired at defenseless civilians. Hostages.

One of his batarangs shoots from his hand to the wrist of the goon, who is also wearing a clown mask. The man and Akiko scream together. It truly feels like a nightmare.

Batman takes advantage of the goon's inattention due to pain to strike his throat and pull him away from the teenager. The man falls to the ground with a thud.

“Akiko” He whispers under his breath “Are you okay?”

He rushes over to hold his daughter-in-law in a hug. Much tighter than he would admit. Seeing her that close to danger scared Bruce more than anything he saw all those days inside that godforsaken maze.

Akiko shakes as Bruce holds her. She smells of metal and sweat, but feeling her warm skin against his arms gives Bruce a sense of reassurance. She is alive. He made it on time. He is glad to be able to make it on time.

He would not forgive himself for loosing another child by arriving late.

“Please tell me you found Domi”

Dominicus. The brief calm he felt earlier vanished. Akiko's voice holds only relief, but she does not know that what she said is completely new to him.

Batman swallows hard. Akiko and… If the child is also there… The Joker had taken advantage of his absence to attack the weakest members of the family. Hostages.

Worry surges through his body like a vibration that rushes through his limbs, alerting him. His blood still boils hotly through his veins from the adrenaline he pumped into himself when Akiko quickly realizes.

“You didn’t know” She grasps. She puts a hand into her battered hair with concern. “How could you? He was with us in the car. In the backseat. I-I… He w-was…”

Tears escape Akiko's eyes, her face twisting in despair. The hand holding a lock of her hair moves compulsively.

The hopelessness in her gaze twists a feeling inside Batman that has been quelled to prioritize his survival. Fear. He has to keep moving.

“I’ll find him”

A sound of electronic interference emerges from the goon’s pocket. A walkie-talkie trying to transmit a signal. Their chance.

At one point, Bruce thought that being Batman was a task he could perform alone. Soiner than later he realized it was a joint effort. A family. His family.

He has to put Akiko to safety and find Dominicus. And he could not do so alone. Not with so little information and so much tiredness.

Batman calibrates the device to access the family's private channel. He hopes to hear a reply. They have clear instructions on what to do if he disappeared out of nowhere. They know that he would try to contact them by any means. One of those means was through radio waves.

"Oracle," he mutters cautiously. "Are you there?"

The device takes a couple of seconds to return a response.

"Batman!" The voice on the other end of the intercom sounds relieved. "Yes! Can you hear me?"

The teenager’s attention diverts from her own worries to the walkie-talkie.

"Oracle!" Akiko cries out loud “Oh my… Hi! I-I’m…”

The girl looks like she is just about to pass out when she hears the woman talking. Akiko is a mess of tears, nerves and blood. She holds Batman's arm, clinging to it to stay upright.

“Hi baby” Oracle answers comfortingly to the girl “I’ve already tracked your location” She says “Help is on the way.”

Chapter Text

Alia has to breathe. Focus on walk. No. Not walk. Run. Yes. Run.

One foot in front of the other. She is barefoot. Where were her shoes? Run fast. Adelaide. Faster. She has to keep running. They would come for her. Joker and his wide grin. Harley. Her latex suit. Alia has to run.

Her throat burns. She screamed for hours. Someone heard her. Yes. Alia hadn't been alone before. But now she is.

Run. Keep going until find the fire door. Don't trip. Run.

Alia's thoughts echoe in her dizzy mind. The blood loss and lack of food have her disoriented. She could barely coordinate her movements. Her hands are numb. It doesn't matter. She has to keep going. Straight to the end. Get out. Run toward the highway.

It is an easy task. It has to be.

Alia wants to cry in that abandoned hallway. Mind over body, she repeats herself. But her body is exhausted, and her mind agonizes at the vivid memory of the things she has been forced to do.

She can barely drag her heavy limbs. She shouldn't think about that. She has to survive. Go home. Graduate. Return to Jay. Yes. Her ears are ringing.

Mind over matter. One foot in front of the other.

She stops. There is no amount of positive thinking able to stop her from puking her lungs out. Unable to continue due to a deep cough, Alia brings a hand to her mouth.

To her utter horror, a mixture of purulent and bloody mucus emerge from the inside of her throat, reflecting the true severity of her condition.

She has to calm down. Blood isn't a good sign. Not at all.

What do the books say about purulent excretion with blood? Pneumothorax. Emphysema. Something else.

There is nothing she could do for herself unless she gets out of there. Her destroyed throat stops her from breathing normally. She is sure that ingesting the toxin directly has devastated part of her vocal cords. Air comes down to her lungs with strain.

She has to keep going.

Walk. No. Not walk. Run. Yes. What has she done? She still has the vial of liquid in her hand. Had she done it right? One leg in front of the other. Get to the fire exit. It is her only way to resolve what she has done.

“Stop”

The voice that speaks to her is profound and comes from another man whose face is adorned by a clown mask. He appears behind her. She hadn't heard his footsteps. The ringing in her ears drowned out almost any other noise.

He holds her from behind. He reaches up and covers her bruised neck with his hands. She can't breathe anymore. What does he want? Panic blinds her. She has to focus. Alia moves her legs with difficulty, trying to wriggle out of his grasp.

“Don’t fight” The man tells her softly, almost caressing “There’s nowhere to go. This is it”

If she had any doubts, the truth is now crystal clear.

In a split second, Alia thinks about everything that happened in her life up to that moment.

Her pa and ma. Her siblings. Her Suzy, the dog that grew alongside with her at the farm that she buried before starting high school. Her friends back home. The way she was obsessed with a particular way of braiding her hair because of Katniss from The Hunger Games. Her childhood bed.

She thinks of college and medicine. Her late grandma and her medicinal plants that could cure almost any disease. She had a beautiful voice. Alia remembers her songs. She used to sing them to Jay whenever he couldn’t sleep.

Jay. Jason. The white strand amongst his black hair. Their nightly talks. His shyness before giving her a hug. The soft touch of his hands over her face. Their pottery classes. His voice reading a book out loud. He telling her he’d always find his way back safely after patrol.

Alia coughes. A black haze hangs over her vision as the air is forced vehemently to her battered lungs. Every nerve ending in her body screams with exasperation. The pain is blinding.

Pain. She barely feels her hands. A truth crystal clear. Her life force is draining from her body like a trickle of water falling into oblivion.

Alia grips the vial she'd been holding onto since the night before, and doesn't stop until she feels the container glass shatter inside her fist.

“No” She whispers. The words come out her throat with an intense hit of pain “I w-will get back to my home”

Return home. To achieve it she can't hesitate. Alia opened her fist. A green radioactive mist begins to flow into the air. The direct contact with the toxic liquid stings her hand.

The man whimpers, unable to coordinate his actions. He releases his hold. It is useless to try to resist the toxin. As soon as it reaches his throat through breathing, the effects are immediate.

The man's hands are no longer on her neck, but Alia still holds her breath. Her lungs continue to respond despite the fatigue.

Her eyes sting as she stands up, trying to continue on her run, away from the toxic mist. Behind her, the man screams, enraged.

He approaches her, stomping awkwardly. And Alia understands that the fate is sealed.

It’s him or you Alia.

She can't hesitate. She grabs one of the broken panes of glass left over from the old container. She has to get home.

She acts. Alia attacks the first thing she reaches.

Him or you.

The man tries to hold his neck with both hands to cover the open wound he has just received. Alia lunges at him. Adrenaline bubbles through her veins.

If you have to choose.

Him or you?

The additional weight causes the man to stumble on his knees and makes it easier for Alia to continue hammering the broken glass against him.

“I w-will” She mutters “I will get back to my boy”

Breathe deeply. Eight. Nine. Ten. Twelve. Fifteen. The glass fragment on her hand enters the man’s skin with easiness.

Her chest goes up and down, shakily when she stops her arms from moving. The glass container she held before is completely broken. There are squirles incrusted on her already tainted flesh but she can’t feel any pain.

She is no longer only covered by her on blood, but also by the man’s remains.

Alia stares down at his body. His neck skin is completely destroyed and his blood runs freely into the floor. He is already starting to go pale and sore. His eyes are opened in an unnatural way. His soul long gone.

He is dead. Sore. He could no longer touch her. Nor anyone else

She stares down to him, but can’t feel anything. No regret. No relief. No panic. Just numbness.

The fire exit is only a couple steps over. She has to survive. For the first time on her life, she crosses over a man’s body, carefully avoiding to touch his cold skin.

Then, she keeps on walking.

Chapter Text

When does a comet become a meteor?

It was war. Damian knows it. He has read way too many books about strategy to know it. Played too many games. Waited way too long.

It was war. They are focusing on two fronts: They have messed up with the weakest links on their chain. Their least prepared members. Two girls and a baby.

Akiko knows a lot about self-defense, as Damian himself taught her, but she is no match for a well-seasoned thug.

Alia, although brave and smart, lacks the cold blood needed to attack someone other than in her own defense.

Dominicus cannot even run without stepping on his own feet.

It was a war. Two fronts. They attacked their strongest member: Father disappeared and they do not have any idea if he is alive or dead for too long. They left little to no clue about his whereabouts. The family knows Bruce would not disappear out of thin air without prior informing. He would not do that to Alfred’s debilitated heart. They attempt to play with their psyches.

He thinks about his mother’s words and the veracity behind them. Has he grown weaker on his time at Gotham? The lack of rules has made him lazy? He could change it. He could end it. Do the things father is most afraid to. Protect them before it is too late.

It’s war, Damian repeats himself as he kneels down on his father’s armory to bring out his sacred katana. The same one he has not brought out ever since he made the identical oath as his father’s.

“I ought to protect. Not to kill. To use my knowledge to help those in need”

One afternoon evening some years before, Damian al Ghul learned that those words were based on his grandfather’s hypocratic oath. A fragment of what Sir. Thomas Wayne himself had told the day he became a doctor.

He is not his father. He is not his mother. He is not his grandfather. He is not his brothers. He is not his sisters. He is more. The best of them. He has to be more.

The shiny edge of his katana salutes him with the same complicity as one greets an old friend. Damian feels a shiver running down his spine once he embraces his blade.

When does a candle become a blaze?

He sees the gravy expression on Alfred’s face. The old man is no longer what he used to be on his golden days.

At seventy-two years old, Alfred is no longer the avid spy he once was but he still possessed a sharp mind and decades of combat knowledge on his side.

Under Alfred’s black eyes, a pair of deep dark circles awaits. A product of dozens of sleepless nights with no rest. It is obvious how deeply affected the old man is by the whole situation.

They have messed up with their strongest member, Batman. But Bruce is also just Alfred’s son.

Damian is no fool. He values the old man’s opinion even more than his father’s. He always seemed smarter than anyone else. One step ahead. Alfred has the ruthlessness Damian’s own father lacks.

On the same night Alfred reunites them all in the Manor to inform Oracle’s discover, Pennyworth takes out an archaic pistol that Damian has only seen once on his whole life through a protective glass. That time, Alfred told him about his past as a member of the British Royal Guard. A spy.

Looking at them all silently sitting, Damian immediately understands what truly have started: War.

When does a man become a monster?

Chapter Text

They come in a rush. Dick Grayson has never seen his little brother driving as fast as that fateful night. And Jason loves to speed up.

Dick takes great pride on his family. The whole bunch of them. Even those who wrongly believe that he had been disappointed on them.

He knows they all look up to him in all the ways that matter. Some of them even take his words in higher consideration that Bruce’s. It is a hard weight to carry on his shoulders, but he has been used to it ever since Jason came into the picture. When the rest tag along, it was easier to acclimatize.

Jason was a happy kid. Dick remembers how jealous he had been at first. There was a time when there was only Alfred, Bruce and him. A golden trio. Working perfectly adjusted.

Then, when he revolted, a new kid appeared in the Mansion, using his old suit and being called by the same surname his dead parents used to affectionally call him ever since he lived on the circus.

Dick really, really tried to hate on Jason at first but it became really difficult to do so. Sure, the new kid was using his clothes and patrolling with Bruce, but he also behaved like the wildest of raccoons. And Dick loved raccoons.

Baby Jason had a good heart on himself. He was kind with strangers and compassionate with criminals. Even if he was too young to understand the full extension of their actions. Like raccoons. But he was also a child, and his naivety, proper from his young age, made him sometimes behave rash. He was often playfully unaware of the dangers around him.

When he died, it was like the world stopped on its tracks. Dick had been away, leading the newly formed Titans and way too busy flirting with Starfire. Alfred called him.

“I am sorry to inform that Master Jason has perished.”

Dick puked on a sideway upon hearing the news. They were vigilantes. Heroes. Doing extreme work but always coming out clean. Just a few cuts or some broken bones. The possibility of dead never felt real until that fateful day.

Jason drives faster. Surpassing the Batmobile with easiness on his bike. The highway they are going through is a secondary road on the outskirts of the city. It is close to the bay and by their recounts, it is mostly used by fisherman.

Dick is glad Bruce reached out to them. They were close to the truth, having suspected affairs on that building, but they also had similar lectures on a few more. There was no way they could have even made it on time.

Even on his worst days, Bruce is always the best.

Damian stays silently at his side. Only caressing the handle on his katana, absent-mindedly. He had been that way ever since the whole situation started. His thoughts are everywhere else but in the present.

“Do you think Dominicus is dead?”

Nightwing’s suit feels comfortable on him. Tighter on the skin and much more flexible than Batman’s. Those nights covering up for Bruce’s absence notably took a huge tool on his autonomy.

“No” Dick answers truthfully “I don’t think Joker would kill him without an announcement”

It is the harsh truth. The only thing that stops Dick from excessively worrying about Domi’s disappearance is the fact that Joker loves to make spectacles. Keeping the youngest Wayne captive wouldn’t be an exception. If anything, it would only make things bigger.

“Yeah”

Damian nods on his seat. They are only a few kilometers away from the calculated location. The air feels heavy on them.

“We’ll reach him on time” Dick assures “Alia too. They’re gonna be fine”

He sure hopes so.

They are both the light on Jason’s eyes. A light Dick once thought long gone.

Jason spent too much time dead and even when he came back, he was not the same bright kid Richard met on the earliest days. He was no longer a mischief raccoon but rather, something was purely off.

His eyes lingered for too long into a void. His stance was affected. He had a certain craving for violence that could not be fulfilled, like a junkie whose drug was wiped off this world.

Those who had not know before could hardly notice, but to Dick, the change on his younger brother’s behavior was too obvious. There were not only the scars, but also another reminiscent that made it clear that Jason did not entirely get back.

Up until he met Alia, he had resorted to a seemingly quiet life. He stopped killing and was open to collaborate with the family, but he didn’t put a foot on the Mansion until the day they assured him she would come to check up on Domi.

Even then, Jason was shy and serious. Not the same extrovert kid that used to hang around Dick’s squad with little worries. Making weird questions and saying awful jokes. That Jason would never come back, surely. But the closest he had been to resurged to light was when he was around Alia and Domi.

“On site” Red Hood’s raspy voice talks through the comm “Going inside”

Red Hood tears up the place. He only arrives a few seconds earlier than the rest but he does not hesitate to enter the building by any means necessary.

The sound of his guns echoes around the otherwise pacific night. Dick hears not only screams but also whimpers, which is a fairly good thing. Despite his deepest worries, Jason has not resorted to kill again.

“Coming up north” Nightwing commands “We’ll check south. Orphan, cover up for Red Hood”

As they get out of the Batmobile, the rest of the crew is at their meeting point.

“Signal, we need readings on the building as soon as you land. Red Robin and Spoiler will cover up for you”

He hears the rest of his family stepping into the ground behind them. They need all hands in desk. Only Batman and Akiko had been localized so far. With a bit of luck on their side, they could find Joker and dismantle the whole operation that night.

“And what’s mama cat gonna do for you?”

Selina’s silky voice comes through the comm. She tagged along the mission at her own request. Catwoman isn’t particularly used to work in teams. She is more of a lone player but even if she does not care to admit it, she cares about her soulmate.

“Come with us”

She quickly disappears inside the building, following Red Hood’s indications. The rest of the team put up on the work as instructed by Nightwing.

Catwoman, Red Hood and Orphan work together surprisingly well. The three of them hardly have disagreements because they simply like doing things their own ways and they respect each other. They move like a luxury clock on perfect synchronicity.

Robin and Nightwing move together through the shadows. Outside the building, a few of Joker’s goon guard the entrances. They are quickly dismantled and incapacitate by the pair.

“Joker’s gone” Duke says “Harley Quinn as well. They took Domi with them”

Duke’s powers are a blessing but sometimes they also result very… hopeless. The capacity of seeing the foreseeable future and past through light remaining is useful on many opportunities, but not to keep up the moral.

“Got it” Nightwing answers “Anything else?”

“Not on this side of the building”

“We’ll keep moving” Spoiler adverts “Got any company?”

Under the dimly light of the street lamps, only the sound of bushes moving against each other perturbs the quiet night. Their footsteps remain inaudible. Moving like a unit into an unknown path.

“They shot people” Orphan’s quiet voice says “Point-black shoots. There are at least five bodies. Three men. Two women”

Nightwing moves his head to look at Robin. Damian’s masked face nods in response. He pushes a small button on the side of his comm.

“Gordon is on his way”

The perimeter seems clear. No more of Joker’s goons as far as they could tell. The few that remain outside are tied together to await until the arrival of GCPD.

“Found Batman” Catwoman alerts “This shithead is okay”

A deep grunt is heard from the other side of the comm. One that could only belong to Batman himself. Nightwing feels a subtle happiness growing inside him. Not only he is okay, but he also remains the same grumpy man. It is a good thing.

Damian puts a hand over Dick’s shoulder, sharing a quietly understanding of the situation. Their dad is fine, tagging along with the rest of them.

“Robin.” Red Hood calls through his comm “I got her. She’s safe”

He hears a subtle sigh of relief escaping through Damian’s lips. A heavy worry falling off from his young shoulders.

“Thank you.”

The night grows larger as they enter the building. The corridors are mostly empty, not many life signals aside from a few mosquitoes and loose glasses of water.

“We are gonna take ‘em to the Batmobile” Red Hood adds “Oracle. Inform Alfred please”

“On it”

It feels oddly quiet. They had expected Joker to flee away once he discovered Batman’s presence, but there are no notable clues. He is becoming more intended. Far behind stayed the crazy man with no notion for reality.

“Nightwing…” Red Hood’s voice lingers on the comm.

Dick knows his younger brother way too much. Even after his dead and resurrection. even if not all of him came back, there are just some things about Jason that remain the same.

He cares. Jason cares about his loved ones more than he should. He took Damian under his wing at the League. He always made sure to check on Tim’s eating habits. He went running back to Bruce, even when he let him down.

He cares. Jason sat for months aside a silent Cassandra, just to keep her company on her first days. He protects Duke on his few nights at patrol. He eats the awful food Selina makes just to see her smile.

He cares. And Alia is his girl. His special girl. The one he is always talking about. The girl that made him swim again. His girl. Jason obliterated under her touch like a planet orbiting its sun.

“Nothing yet” He says “, but we’ll find something”

It hurts Dick to inform him on the lack of updates.

It is very anticlimactic to found so little resistance. The figure of Batman ingrained panic into the collective mind of criminals but they rarely have a getaway as well executed as that one.

In that wing, there are seven closed doors and not a single noise.

“We will” Damian severs "Help the girls take father to the meeting point. We are finishing covering up this side of the building”

“Consider it done” Catwoman says “Mr. Batman here can walk on his very own two legs”

It is funny to imagine Batman’s reluctance to Catwoman’s words. Selina enjoys to scold Bruce way too much.

“Signal, any finds?”

Nightwing and Robin keeps on moving through the south aisle of the building. Signal’s powers could give them a deeper insight on where to look when all that is left are glasses of water and silence.

“Negative” Duke says through the comm “Most of them escape on cars. A few were killed. I can’t see much more than that”

Fuck. Dick wants that night to be something more than a recovering on Batman’s steps. It is good to have both of them back but he wants to put an end to Joker once and for all.

“I’m going back after this” Red Hood adds “Help you cover up more in less time. We can’t afford to lose time”

She can still be here. It is implicit on Jason’s words. Dick knows how small her odds are. There are two main options: Either they took her with them as well or they killed her.

With each door they open, Nightwing is afraid to discover Alia’s head blown into pieces.

“Great” Damian says “Hood?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell Akiko she won our bet”

Dick laughs at his youngest brother’s words. Deep down, Damian is still a kid passing through the body of a sappy teenager.

“Aww little man” Spoiler’s voice irrupts through the comm “Excited to see your girlfriend? Love it for you”

Nightwing almost could imagine Damian’s eyes rolling under his masks because of how loud he groans. Steph’s comments surely could be inappropriate from time to time.

“We will work on the semantics later”

They cross left to the last segment of the aisle they have to explore. It remains as vacant as the rest of it, but quickly, something catches up their attention.

“Nightwing” Damian whispers “Check this”

There is a dead man in the corridor. It is a quite horrific image to see. Dick has seen a lot of death on his life, but it still terrifies him: How awful humans could be given the right circumstances.

The man lays motionless on the floor. His neck is open from side to side. He is wearing the same clown mask as the rest but his is barely recognizable because of all the blood.

A fight? The man shows no signs of violence except from the wound on his neck. Maybe one of his colleagues betrayed him. But… Why?

“Nightwing, look” Damian whispers “There”

A half-opened door marked with a big nameplate signaling the exit is adorned with the silhouette of two bloody hands.

Damian moves closer to inspect the door, but Dick has a sudden hunch, guided by the vague sound of crunching grass. His legs move quickly, crossing the fire exit in the blink of an eye.

The oxygen escapes from his lungs through a gasp. For the first time in his life, Nightwing takes a couple of steps back from the person leaning towards him.

Chapter Text

“Stop Alia!” Dick screams “STOP!”

It takes him more than a few seconds to identify the woman in front of him.

She looks devastated. A thick layer of dirt and blood covers her face and much of her body. Her clothes are torn and stained. Her arms quiver as she wields a piece of broken glass towards Nightwing.

She looks like a whole different person. A terribly scared woman. Her blue eyes, so distinctively hers, are the characteristic trait that allows Dick to recognize her. He has seen those eyes in the dozens of photos Jason has shown him in the past.

Alia. Jason’s soulmate. This isn’t the way Dick expected to find her, but at least she is alive.

“Put it down,” Nightwing commands.

He raises his hands in a sign of peace. He knows he can incapacitate her with a couple of moves. Disarm her so quickly that she wouldn’t have time to do even the slightest damage.

But she looks so disoriented…

The clamor of the night grows louder. Alia's blue eyes dance nervously between him and the door behind him. Her right eyelid drops, swollen, partially obscuring one of her irises. A scared puppy.

Dick hears Damian's brief footsteps behind him, feeling his presence like a silent complement. A metallic click tells him the door has closed behind them. Alia shifts the position of the shard of glass toward Robin.

"Red Hood. She's here."

Something seems to light up in Alia's eyes. Her grip on the glass wavers. A slight nod of recognition. The name Damian uttered to his comm prompted a moment that snapped her out of the stupor she'd found herself in.

Alia parts her pale lips as if about to say something, but is stopped by a deep cough that shatters her unfocused awareness on the situation. Alia's face twists into a compulsive grimace.

“Red Hood? You heard me?”

As Alia keep coughing, her battered body loses its balance due to the spasms. She lurches forward, the glass slipping through her trembling fingers. Nightwing rushes to catch her as her legs buckled under her weight.

“It’s okay, kiddo,” Dick answers softly, doing his best to hold her without applying any unnecessary pressure on her disturbed chest. Her coughs become more and more intense with each second it passed by, “You did good. Just breathe, okay? We’ll take care of the rest.”

Alia clutches his arms weakly. She keeps coughing. Her eyes reflects an expression of pure panic, crystallized by the heavy tears welling up on her cheeks.

Nightwing is truly focused on the battered woman in his arms, but Red Hood's lack of response to the news of his soulmate's appearance doesn't go unnoticed to him.

"She needs a hospital," Damian says behind him. "Let's go."

Nightwing glances around. On that side of the building, a long, empty courtyard stretches out. It leads to a large parking lot that connects to a road. Something doesn't feel right. Alia begins to take huge gulps of air. The grip she has on his arms loosens.

Dick turns to look at the woman in his arms. Her pale lips has taken on a blue tint. It can't be a good sign.

But the empty courtyard... The lack of staff... The murders... Dominicus... What were they up to?

"NIGHTWING! LET'S GO!"

Dick shakes his head and in a single movement, finishes lifting Alia into his arms. Damian turns and kicks his way through the door that had previously closed behind them.

Dick has never run as fast in his entire life as he does on that fateful night.

Chapter Text

Damian wishes to become a doctor. Leave the vigilante’s life behind.

The violence. The trauma. The guilt. A new career path could mean leave it all behind.

It is one of his deepest desires. Only Akiko and Jason know about it. What would Father say about disrespecting his legacy? Would he approve it? He would been following on the footsteps of sir Thomas Wayne himself and there is hardly anything more important to Bruce than his late parents’ approval. Anything but Gotham.

Damian would not ever want to think about what his mother would say. Or his grandfather. Ra disowned Talia’s when she pursued something similar. The ending did not satisfy any of the participants.

As he feels Alia’s ribs under his hands, Damian shudders but his mind commands him into action with no hesitation. She is showing off most of a respiratory arrest. He starts CPR protocol on the backseat of the Batmobile.

Her lips are turning a deeper blue color and she is still bleeding profusely from the wounds on her hands. Mixed signals. Damian needs more knowledge to truly understand what condition she is truly in. The compressions over her chest do not stop.

Putting his lips over Alia’s to insufflate air into her lungs, Damian wishes for her to be awake. He could know all about fighting and killing and stalking but she is the one who would know what to do in that situation.

Father is racing through Gotham’s streets fiercely. Defensive driving some call it. Cars move aside upon seeing the Batmobile’s presence on their rearview mirrors. It has been a long time ever since the true Batman was behind the steering wheel of his main vehicle, but father has surely not forgot how to drive it properly.

It is not the best of ideas, but either way it is not as if any of them could stop Batman from doing anything he wants. Even if that means accepting him driving the Batmobile after weeks of disappearance under uncertain conditions.

Alia’s inert body stumbles upon the backseat. The speed is looting her stranded body against the insides of the car.

“SLOW DOWN!”

Batman does not turn to look at Damian as he swerves to avoid obstacles in the road. Even through his mask, his father's frown is visible.

The brief sense of relief he'd experienced when he saw Akiko and his father in much better condition than Jason's soulmate dissipated as soon as Alia's lungs stopped breathing completely.

It happened in matter of instants. Red Hood was the first to notice something odd about Alia as soon as he saw her in Nightwing's arms. Fear. Alia had been laid down in the backseat of the Batmobile. Screams. Red Hood handed his motorcycle keys to Nightwing to switch places inside the vehicle. The roar of the engine starting.

“Help her!” Jason had pleaded Damian. His mask had been teared up on the inside of the vehicle “Please”

To his irritation, Batman does not slow down. Damian holds Alia's body against the seat with his legs and prepares to begin a second round of compressions against her chest.

Jason watches the scene develop from the passenger seat. His gaze flicks between the street in front of them and Alia. He is trying to type something on the car's controller. His fingers twitch restlessly.

“Oracle” Batman calls “Where do we go?”

Nothing. He still has not felt Alia's pulse return. That is a bad sign. Damian pumps air into her mouth again.

One. Two. Three respirations.

Damian feels the weight of Jason's desperate gaze on his back. His brother trusts on his limited knowledge enough to let his soulmate's life on his hands so Alia is going to be okay. She has to be.

Damian presses Alia's chest again. One. Two. Three. The structures beneath his hands feel increasingly weak. Four. Five. Six. The rhythm of the compressions repeats in his head like a melody. Seven. Eight. Nine. The thud that comes with each compression is painfully audible amid the tense stillness of the Batmobile.

“Go to Wayne’s Clinic on the 18^th road. Use the back-up entrance” Oracle declares through the forgotten comm “Dr. Thompkins is already there. Got an aisle set up for her”

Ten. Eleven. Twelve.

Batman swerves the wheel. The turn destabilizes even Damian's tightly gripped, semi-bent legs.

Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen.

A trickle of blood oozes from a gaping wound on the back of Alia's head. A pair of massive bruises are already forming on her neck. Damian's suit gloves are soaked. Beads of sweat trickles from his forehead.

Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen.

Behind him, Jason hurriedly removes the most distinctive parts of his suit.

Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-one.

"I'm going out with her."

Batman nods silently. Twenty-two. Twenty-three. Twenty-four. Damian presses his body weight against Alia's ribs. She does not react. She looks paler with each passing second. Colder.

Twenty-five. Twenty-six. Twenty-seven. If they could say one thing about Jason, it is that there would be no way to separate him from Alia from now on. Damian has to deliver Alia with a pulse. Give her a real chance at recovery. He cannot let his brother down.

Twenty-eight. Twenty-nine. Thirty. Damian's fingers glid over Alia's neck. A sigh of relief escapes his lips as he feels the slightest pulse through her skin.

Their arrival at the clinic is noiseless. Four uniformed personnel are waiting for them with a stretcher and a pair of monitors outside the double doors of the clinic. Dr. Thompkins leads the group, her hands clasped in front of her white coat.

The entrance is on a quiet street corner, so no one but the medical team witnesses Jason leaping out of his seat in the Batmobile, fully clothed in civilian attire. He heads to the back of the vehicle, where Robin is already descending with Alia on his arms.

The medical staff acts in sync like a perfectly timed clock. As soon as he places her on the stretcher, the workers move around to connect her to a mechanical ventilator and some other machines

Dr. Thompkins commands the operation through a series of orders and requests using complicated terminology. The workers push Alia's stretcher through the doors into the clinic. Dr. Thompkins is about to keep going when she is stopped by Jason's strong grip on one of her arms.

“Don’t let him kill her” Jason begs “He c-can’t… my God -not her. He can’t have her too”

Chapter Text

“Sometimes I wonder, you know”

It was still an early evening. The warm wind on the rooftop of Wayne Hospital swept a few forgotten ashes across the floor.

It was six thirty-seven in the evening. Alia texted him a couple of hours earlier to join her on her lunch break. Jason was horrified when he read it.

“Why do people still live here?” He asked out loud. “It’s like every nutterhead agreed to move to Gotham.”

Alia had her black hair tied back in a messy ponytail that rested on the side of her shoulder. She was humming a song softly while her eyes wandered over a text. How could she care for other people’s health when she barely cared about her own? Eleven hours of fasting couldn’t do anyone any good.

Jason couldn’t stay angry with her, no matter how hard he tried.  

“Thank you for coming” Jason hears Tim’s voice in the distance “I-I gotta go… Yeah, I need to see Bernard, uh… I-I need to make sure he’s okay”

He is going to go insane. Jason inhales and exhales. Inhale and exhale. Alia has been moved to an examination room.

The door between them is a metal one. Double doors. Inhale and exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Alia is going to die. No. She can't die.

He is somewhere in that medical wing. They'd closed off part of the clinic to ensure privacy and calmness for them.

Calmness. He wants to scream. To run. To punch. To do something. Anything

His feet move behind the medical staff without anyone really being able to do anything to stop him from following until Dr. Thompkins yells at him to wait outside the examination room.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Jason tries to remember his therapist's advice for dealing with panic attacks, but he can't. An advice for a situation like that? He can't remember any.

Inhale. Exhale. Where is the rest of his family? It all feels so far away. Unreal. Where is Bruce? Akiko? Getting medical attention. They are with Damian. Or with Dick. Yes. Tim’s gone. Something about Bernard. Domi? Inhale. Exhale. Don't freak out. Don't think. Yes. Don't think.

Jason wants to shut off his brain. His mind races between what happened that night and his old memories with Alia. Is she going to die? Her sweet voice in the memories is torturing him.

The walls of the clinic are cold. Icy cold. Jason presses his forehead against the column in front of him. Inhale. Exhale. Yes. He wishes he could shut off his brain.

Alia isn't going to die. She can't. No. She is going to die. Same as he had done. Joker killed her too.

“Where’s Jason?”

“Yeah. It’s kinda like a VIP club” Alia joked “Welcome to Gotham!” She faked a funny voice tone “Where superheroes are mandatory and villains are a bonus!”

Alia had her tricks. Or so Jason thought. She could charm him with just a glaze. She could convince him to do anything with that playful tone of voice and the movement of her pink lips.

“Can’t be there, man”

Jason separates his face away from the cold ceramic of the column. His inside trembles as, amidst all his dread, he spots orange curls and a pair of dark glasses amidst the paleness of the rest of the clinic.

Her skin was soft. Velvety. She had delicate fingers and preferred to paint her nails neon colors. That day, she had them painted a fluorescent red.

From up there, the chaos of the rest of the city felt profoundly distant: His soulmate had bought Mexican takeaway for both of them!

It was from that lovely place downtown that Jason absolutely adored. The first time he tasted its dishes was because he saved the restaurant owners from some Maroni goons and they gifted him a gigantic plate of chilaquiles.

“Exactly” Jason answered “But here we are. Trying to survive a circus show full of loony people”

“Roy”

He hugs him.

Jason has never liked hugs. Nor any physical touch to be honest. He often ducked away from any human contact, even the playful interactions Roy tried to engaged on their first times together. It is just the way he was. An aftermath of his own traumas. Maybe.

Jason doesn’t like physical touch and Roy understands it.

But that night, at the sideways of the hospital where his soulmate is fighting between life and dead, Jason Peter Todd hugs him longer than ever before. His breath trembles. The mumbled of his agitated chest against his own lets Roy know how hard Jason is trying to remain calm despite the situation.

“Jaybird” Roy answers, keeping his best friend collected on his embrace “She’s gonna be okay”

He feels Jason’s warm breath against his skin. His lips are trembling while he was figuring out the way to form a coherent sentence.

Alia tilted her head in a comprehensive manner but her eyes remained focused on the book she was reading. It was something about cranial nerves and the effects of different medicines on them. She had been super busy studying for a test for next week.

It stuck on Jason’s chest how she still made time to spend with him despite her occupations.

“Who needs a circus when you have the Joker?”

Jason froze on his place. Years of therapy and that name still made him shiver.

Alia didn’t know. How could she know? He had never been able to tell her. Never saw the chance.

Jason felt his breaths go skimpier.

Roy stays with him the whole time. Has it been five minutes or five hours? Jason can't tell. He is stuck with the same memory replaying in his head.

A warm afternoon on a hospital rooftop. Alia's silhouette against the sunset. Her soft humming.

Roy squeezes his shoulder, offering him a sympathetic look.

Dr. Thompkins comes out. The metal double doors clink as they move. An old woman is removing a blue plastic guard that cover her clothing.

“Leslie” The word escapes Jason's lips without being able to stop it. “W-What happened? Did s-she…?”

Alia stopped chewing her food to move her eyes from her book to Jason. He stood silent for a second. Her eyebrows were furrowed on a confused expression.

“Yeah, yeah” Jason said trying to emulate a lighthearted voice tone “Or the Penguin.” He added “He always seem to be looking for an excuse to use his umbrella as a weapon”

“She has to stay asleep” Dr. Thompkins says “At least for a few days. We can’t tell the full extent of the damage on her stomach but her throat is pretty injured. We induced her into a comma so her organs can recover properly” She explains “How long was her heart stopped?”

Jason's eyes don't focus on her. He sinks down into one of the nearby chairs. The cold material seeps through his clothes.

“Uh, I don’t know?” He mutters “Forty seconds. A minute or so. I can’t tell for sure”

“We’ll run a CT scan to check her brain function but we are hopeful”

Inhale. Exhale. Yes. She is not going to die. Not that night, right? Jason runs his hands through his two-tone hair.

“Can we see her?”

Roy stands next to the doctor, arms crossed over his chest. He is quiet. It is very odd to not hear him yapping.

“After the scan is done. I’ll let you know” Dr. Thompkins says. Her eyes wander somewhere in the far distance. “I have never seen anything like what they used on her”

The plastic covers the doctor is holding creaks. Dr. Thompkins throws it into a nearby trash can.

“A toxin. Joker has used it before” Jason says “Duke’s parents went insane by it”

“I know Joker’s toxin effects but this is not it” She says “I think it has traces of it but there are new things on it too. Her organs rejected it like poison”

Alia’s eyes squinted for a second. Her lips pressed together. She seemed to be about to ask him something but she just shook her head.

“I wouldn’t underestimate it!” Alia said with a mischiveous smile “Here in Gotham it can be a pretty good weapon!”

She was a smart woman. How long would it take for her to put the dots together? Jason knew he had to talk with her but he simply couldn’t.

If he allowed her to see him as what he truly was: A weak and scared and traumatized man...

Would she still wanted to be with him?

If he couldn’t protect her of everything and anything...

If he couldn’t be of any use...

Would she stay with him?

“I wouldn’t change this place though” Alia interrupted his thoughts “Even if it’s crazy. It’s my place now. Here’s my hospital and…”

Alia’s gaze fell upon him. The air stopped circulating throughout his lungs. Jason could feel his temperature rising as she leaned in closer to him.

“It has you”

It was a soft whisper. Alia’s lips moved gently. He couldn’t help but touch her. His hands grasped her face. His fingers moved aside a loose curl that fell from her disheveled ponytail upon her forehead.

“I wish a little less crazy” Jason joked “But knowing Gotham, I think that’s too much to ask for”

Alia’s smile was one of his greatest joys. As she softly laughed, Jason reasoned he could watch her like that for hours.

“With our kind of humor” Alia said “I think we can pretty much survive everything this city throw to us”

An hour later, the memory of that lovely afternoon keeps replaying in his mind. Roy has left to get some food and a change of clothes. Jason is left alone in front of the same metal doors.

He wants to rip his head off. Do something. Anything. To stop thinking.

His fingers flutters inside his jacket pockets. The fabric is damp and warm from his own body heat and sweat. Amid all the commotion, he hadn't had time to change clothes. His panic hadn't allowed him to leave the hospital until he knew of his soulmate's fate.

A soft-spoken nurse appears. She identifies herself and directs him where he should go next. As he follows her through the hospital wing, he listens to her explanation of the patient's condition.

Unconscious. Deteriorating. Stable.

The pads of Jason's battered hand brush the surface of his mark. A 00:00 is perfectly etched into his skin as they reach their destination.

It is still there. She is still there.

On the other side of the glass, the medical monitor Alia is hooked up to beeps melodically.

Chapter Text

“Your hair grows rapidly” Damian says, holding a strand of her calico hair between his fingers “You did exceedingly well on your kidnapping.”

Akiko takes the initiative to break the awkward contact and hug him. The two have always been the most unusual pair. They started out as a pair of little kids who hated each other deeply but couldn't stand to be apart not even for a day.

Now that they are both teenagers, they still seem to feel the need to be joined at the hip all the time.

“It won’t kill you to admit you missed me, Dami” Akiko answers “I know I missed you”

The doctor finishes closing one of the multiple wounds on Bruce's back with an adhesive bandage, and he pretends to feel discomfort at the sensation of the product against his skin.

Batman lost the reflex to respond to such minor pain many years ago although the person being treated that night isn't Batman, but Bruce Wayne.

According to the official version, Bruce Wayne had been rescued along with Akiko Hoshi by Batman and his squad. Both were hostages of the Joker. It’s easier that way. No one could link his disappearance to anything directly related to any vigilante.

If anything, this news would only fuel rumors that Batman and Bruce Wayne are secretly in a romantic relationship.

Nightwing was ordered to return the Batmobile to the cave and ensure the others are safe. He is recovering at the mansion until Batman has a chance to organize a new operation.

“I did indeed” He says “, but I never doubted you would be fine. Not even for a second”

Akiko smiles. Pearly-teeth smile. The doctor said she is in a pretty good shape aside from the obvious dehydration and a couple bruises. No important structures were affected. If anything, Bruce knows she is most scarred mentally.

The clinic provided them with a set of new clothes and the opportunity to take a shower. Bruce takes the brief chance to decompress himself under the cold water. His sore muscles clef under the new temperature.

The clock is ticking. His children have questions. Requests. Bruce can’t run from them forever. His own rage would inflict on his decision making. He has to relax.

But how can he? He is having the chance to take a shower, to stand and breath on his own. Alia Gomez has not been so lucky. It’s not only her but who knew how many more? Falling under Joker’s grotesque actions.

Are they really doing a good thing letting him stay alive?

All life is precious. Bruce remembers his mother’s lessons. She was a fundamental humanist. Martha Wayne was the closest person Bruce knew to be a saint. She struggled her whole life with debilitating mental health issues, but never once she hurt others willingly.

Bruce is no fool. His mother had a full support network. She had almost infinite resources. Access to the best doctors. The chance to take as many days off on everything as she needed. His mother had her environment on her side, and she still battled a lot.

Joker had not been so lucky. Would that excuse his behavior? They had given him as many opportunities as they could. For God’s sake, they reformed Arkham to be a better place to treat his needs.

Is anyone really ever beyond saving?

Who are they to decide? They cannot be judges and executioners or else they would make Gotham their playground. Then, they would not be so different from those they chose to fight.

Are there lives worth more than others? Dominicus. He is also a Wayne. His youngest son.

Three years ago, he had been drunken on happiness. His peaceful success over Gotham made him blind and Bruce wrongfully thought him and Talia could have a true family. Another chance. But neither of them would put their ambitions under the other.

For Talia, the league and her legacy would always come first. Same as it did for Gotham and Bruce.

Joker still have the baby’s life on his hands, and that adds a whole new layer of complications over their next movements.

The clinic clothes are a matching track suit. The fabric is dense and comfortable. A very different choice from what Bruce himself would have elected, but it is nice.

As he exits the bathroom into the room that was assigned to him, Damian’s silhouette stands silently in the middle of it. The teen is wearing his civilian clothes and combed his hair in an unusual way.

Under that hospital light, Damian is simply wearing his Wayne façade.

“Akiko?”

It’s the only thing Bruce can ask his son at that moment. It is a supposition, but it is best to make sure they are completely alone for the conversation they are to have.

“She is sleeping”

Damian is the proudest of them all. He is closer to being a full-grown man than to be that little kid than once arrived to the Manor with a tiny sword and a full attitude.

He still keeps the attitude.

He watches him with those green eyes of his that reminds Bruce too much of Talia for their own good. Talia. With Dominicus’ disappearance, Bruce would not be surprised at all that she would be also around the place to scold him too.

Talia and Selina in the same city? They are going to love nagging him until madness together.

“Are we destined to do this forever?” Damian asks “He plays and we run after him”

He could dress the part and trying his best to abide to their rules, but deep down, there is a part of Damian that would always belong to the al Ghul.

Whether he answers to that side, it would latterly be upon him.

“He can kill everything, Damian” Bruce answers “We need to stand between him and the city”

It is personal. Joker would not take any considerations to get to them. He would not care to hurt innocent people if that meant he could get under his skin. The new toxin he is developing was proof of it.

“If the doctor dies” Damian’s words linger for a bit. The sole mention of it makes them both shiver “I will not go after Jason again.”

Bruce knows it. As much as he doesn’t want to acknowledge it. If Alia Gomez is set to die that night, Jason would return to be the killing menace he once was, if not worse.

Losing one’s soulmate is said to be the most atrocious thing that could be experimented on life.

It has not happened yet. As Jason is not on that room trying to pull a bullet between his eyebrows and Bruce personally asked the staff to keep him informed on the young woman's condition.

With a little bit of luck, it would not happen. Bruce forces himself to be optimistic.

“We cannot let fear cloud our good judgement”

Damian sighs and his characteristic clicking sound escape from his tongue.

“Father, listen to yourself”

His son is now a grown man. Or he is on the verge to become one.

Damian has his own opinions and therefore, his own action line. Bruce knows he could not force him to follow his rules any longer as he did when Damian was a kid. Rather, he has to truly convince him it is the best path possible.

“We need to kill him,” His son severs “, this has to end.”

It is hurtful to hear his son muttered those words, but Bruce knows that deep down, Damian is not the only one that begins to think that way.

Tim would also share the same thinking line as so would Steph. Duke and Cass are probably not convinced about it yet.

Bruce doesn’t want to think about Jason’s case at all.

“It will” Bruce says “, but chaos feeds from pain. We have to step up”

Damian just watches him silently. His eyes clutches with disappointment but he doesn’t add anything to keep up with the topic. Instead, he crosses his arms over his chest and said:

“Dick called” He informs “Alfred is on his way”

Chapter Text

A baby. What an odd specimen.

A long time ago, she’d wished to become a mother. Welp, it is well behind her now. Before meeting her pumpkin pie. A baby simply doesn’t fit their adventurous life.

But that baby is an odd specimen. Maybe because he is a Wayne. Harley was told babies cry a lot. Biology dictates it. It’s their way to look up for their mothers.

She isn’t so sure about his age, but he is fairly large, but then again, all Wayne boys are pretty big. It must be something along their genetics. Maybe he isn’t a baby per se but rather a young toddler.

That could explain why he doesn’t cry as much.

Between her arms, she cuddles the sleepy baby. His tan skin doesn’t match her pale one. But if she squints her eyes and tilts her head, Harley can imagine some sort of resemblance between them both.

A child is far behind her. There is no place for such creature on their quests. But it won’t hurt anyone to allow herself to imagine what it would feel like. Having a combination of her pumpkin pie and herself. They would not look at all like the Wayne toddler she holds on her arms. They would be a child of blond hair like hers and gray eyes as her boyfriend.

The Wayne kid is still doped from the meds applied by that weird doctor. His eyelids fall graciously over his pair of green eyes. He is lulling himself with the unstoppable ticking from Harley’s soulmate mark.

It had been for the best. The meds helped him stay calm. Harley can’t imagine how awful it would have been to change locations with a huge angry toddler. Though, she’d expected him to cry when he first inhaled the green mist. The doctor surely cried a lot when she administered it.

Maybe she was crying for him…

Silly doctor! It was for the best! No kid would stay quiet without a little help!

The Wayne child is now perfectly fine. Still a little asleep even after thirty hours. Her medical brain screams that it isn’t normal, but Harley doesn’t put any mind into it. There are bigger things to focus herself into.

The plan is almost complete. Most machines are already in place. The Batman’s raid that past night was excellent after all. A lot of loose strings had been already taken care of by the Bats and the GCPD. And for the rest of them, Harley and her boyfriend got their hands muddy to make sure everything would work along just fine.

Harley cradles the baby vehemently, but he doesn’t produce not even the slightest sound. It is lovely to have a kid if they like this Wayne child. Quiet and collected. And very, very cute.

Batman would come back to them. Trying to snatch the kid out of her hands. Like he cares! He has like eight more children that he barely pays any attention to! He is a selfish bat nevertheless!

Her boyfriend is gonna back soon. He’s activating all the machines. It’s a sad thing they had to dispose of the airplane when they got away. But at least, all the other points on the city are perfectly on track.

Screams starts to cut off the agitating sound of Gotham’s streets. The Wayne baby whimpers. Harley quickly shushes him.

Chapter Text

Alia’s hands are small. As everything on her is.

Seeing them entirely covered in I.V lines and tubes is devastating. The nurses had told Jason she is being fed through them, as her digestive system can’t handle any kind of food at the moment.

“She’s okay, Mrs. Gomez” Jason mutters against his phone “The room is cozy. I brought that blanket from her apartment.” He says “Yeah. Yeah. I’m not leaving her alone any time soon.”

As Alia’s mother is about to hang up the call, she informs him they’d try to bribe the police agents at Gotham’s bridge to get into the city one more time.

It would be futile. Not even Akiko’s parents, with all their power and influence could get inside. Martial law had been implanted since the Joker's return. But how could he explain that to his soulmate's parents? Go over the same topics over and over again. They are just so worried about their child.

Jason passes his fingers through his disheveled hair. He falls down on that small couch provided by the hospital.

He puts all his effort trying to munch the food Roy brought for him a couple hours earlier. Roasted chicken burger and fries. The food tastes blank.

As he takes another look at his girl’s hands, his phone begins ringing. This time, Jason doesn’t pick it up.

He has at least a dozen unread texts from their group chat. Roy updated their friends on Alia’s condition and they answered vehemently but there is just no energy left on Jason’s body to be able to open the messages.

His girl. What a beautiful job he has done protecting her.

“What if someone tries to attack you?”

They were walking down the streets of downtown Gotham. As it was Alia’s only free day on the week, Jason suggested to teach her how to know her way around the city.

Her swimsuit peeked out her cargo jacket. They still have a couple hours until her swimming lessons. Jason’s hands shyly reached Alia’s.

“I’d run!” Alia cheerfully said “And then I’d call the police! That’s my plan!”

Her fingers curled around his hand carefully as she smiled back at him. Jason felt the temperature on his face getting higher but the solemn touch of her skin.

“Are you alright with constructive criticism? I don’t want to sound mean.”

“Go ahead” Alia said “I wanna hear it”

As they wait to cross a corner, carefully attending to the traffic lights by Alia’s insistence, Jason smiled to himself.

“Your plan fucking sucks”

“That’s not constructive criticism!”

Jason feels tears forming up on his eyes. Is he supposed to stay calm and collected even if no one was around?  The heavy weight of his façade is starting to crush him.

“Hey littlewing”

Upon hearing his older brother's voice, Jason quickly shakes his head and tries to wipe away the tears that threaten to fall from his eyes as discreetly as he can.

“Circus boy”

Richard Grayson enters Alia's room wearing a pair of brown pants and a blue shirt. His wet hair shows he has just gotten out of the shower. He likely came straight from the mansion to the clinic.

Jason immediately notices how his older brother's face is twisted into a look of concern.

“The toxin is out on the city. It’s gotten into the subway airducts” Dick explains with no further introduction “We have to go”

He turns his face to look at Alia. Laid so clean and calm on the stretcher, seemingly asleep. The bruises on her pale skin shatter the illusion of normalcy.

“Not tonight” Jason simply answers “I can’t leave her Dick”

Alia's room required a strict cleaning and disinfection protocol to enter there. Furthermore, by an old Governor’s decree, all Gotham hospitals are required to have ventilation filters and robust contingency plans for situations of that magnitude.

It isn't the first time they had been attacked by the Joker's toxin. The city had a memory of preparing for chaos.

As long as Alia remains inside the clinic, she would be fine. Jason only has to worry about making sure no one enters there to finish up the work.

“Jason” Dick’s voice lingers across the room “It’s five pm. Do you know that?”

“Uh?”

If it’s already 5pm, it means Jason had lost at least... eleven hours? Inside his memories. It sounds crazy, but totally plausible. The entire time Alia had been in the examination room had felt like an eternity for him. Her voice haunted him from inside his head. That room has no windows to keep up with the sun path either.

Time is a completely subjective perception, Jason reminds himself.

“Never mind” Richard adds “You should get some sleep”

Jason sinks further into his couch.

“Can't sleep. Maybe I just need a little alcohol” Jason says and then sighs "Don’t tell Roy I said that. He’s doing pretty good on his recovery”

Dick stays silently for a bit. His arms crossed over his chest. He looks daunting even without his Nightwing suit on.

Under that light, the truth is so painfully obvious. Richard Grayson is what they all want to be. A man of integrity. Dick is the best of them all. Someone that would put justice over anything else.

Unlike him.

Jason can't care over anything but Alia's health. He can't pretend any longer in front of his older brother that he is indeed a good man. Dick is still watching him, maybe waiting for something that is yet to come. Jason takes a deep breath.

“The city is down, right?”

Dick simply nods. The grandeur of his silence underscoring the situation's depth. If details couldn't be shared publicly, even in code, it means something really big had broken out.

“I’d love to talk but we really have to go Jay” Dick says “We don’t have much of a clue what’s on the air but we have to do something. Try. At least”

The monitor measuring his soulmate's heart rate beep melodically. Jason watches it in silence.

“Alia was addicted to pills on college” Jason says “Her dad told me on thanksgiving. I searched the name of it. Some concentration pills. Brain oxygenators.”

He remembers the somber words that overshadowed that joyful evening. The subtle discomfort shared between Alia's father and her brother as the three of them stared at those furry-footed rabbits. Jason guessed that they shared that information with him because they wanted to make sure he'd keep an eye on her.

It could be useful on some other ways.

“They said it’s a miracle that there were so little effects on her brain”

A warning. Alia's father said she could be extremely obsessive. She would risk everything to achieve her goals.

The brain scan showed changes in a few segments of her brain. Dr. Thompkins said it could be a consequence of prolonged exposure to certain medications. Jason's mind immediately flashed back to that Thanksgiving afternoon.

“I think she developed tolerance to some chemicals from those pills.” Jason mutters “Mostly amphetamines. It’s just an idea but I think the new toxin could have some of them”

Alia's chest rises and falls cautiously. A movement barely perceptible to the untrained eye. Jason has been watching her for hours, enough to recognize the pattern.

“Alia was studying their effects on the brain for her classes. She said intoxication could be reversed with benzodiazepine or something like that”

Dick pauses for a moment, processing his words. There isn't much to support Jason’s theory, but it remains a possibility.

At the lack of response from his brother, Jason looks up from his soulmate's stretcher. A second male presence is also present in the room, appearing in the most absolute silence.

“Come with us Jason” Bruce says “, please”

Jason's heart sinks in his chest. Since arriving at the clinic, he'd been running away from any chance of a reunion with his father.

Bruce's blue eyes scan him from head to toe, or so he thinks at first. Then he quickly realizes he is actually looking beyond him.

Bruce is looking straight at Alia.

“I was once arrested too, you know?” Alia muttered “For being too cool”

The traffic lights changed to red for the vehicles. Green for pedestrians. Alia’s grip on his hand grew tighter as she pulled him to cross the street with her.

“Yeah, bet” Jason answered “The charges were dropped because lack of evidence”

Alia laughed. Jason could only focus on the feeling of her hand around his.

Chapter Text

Martha Wayne's portrait greets Alfred impassively from the top of its mural. He stands there motionless, staring at it. A suitcase stuffed with colorful clothes lays folded on his lap.

What would Martha Wayne think of the way he raised her only son?

Bruce had been the apple of his mother's eyes. The only reason Martha Wayne got out of bed in those dark days when her depression threatened to take her away.

Alfred hopes he has done a good job. Bruce is a man now. He has a family of his own. A bunch of kids and a couple of girlfriends that he cannot seem to keep up with.

Once, Bruce had been just a lost orphan, with Alfred as his only guide. Now, he has a lot of people who deeply care about him. Even Dr. Alia Gomez, the newest addition to the family, succumbed to Bruce Wayne's unsuspecting charms.

Alfred had noticed, with some amusement, a series of medications scattered throughout the mansion, bearing the young woman's signature as the sender and Bruce's as the recipient.

Dr. Gomez is a sweet young woman whose concern for others surpasses her obvious limitations. She was so dedicated to her work that she did not seem to notice the scattered clues that revealed Bruce's secret identity and explained the reason for his recurring bruises.

“Are you on your way yet?”

The clothes in the suitcase were carefully chosen by master Jason via video call, as he had been clear on his instructions to keep his soulmate comfortable during her stay at the clinic while they patrolled the frantic streets of Gotham.

“Indeed, master Jason,” Alfred lies through his communicator. His grandson does not need to know about his inner predicament. “How is the night going?”

A loudly grunt later, master Jason’s voice echoes through Alfred’s ears as he descends into the Batcave.

“Like hell” Jason answers “City’s on fire. Are you sure you’re gonna be able to get to the clinic?”

“Of course, master Jason”

Alfred feels Martha Wayne's gaze on his neck. He clutches the suitcase between his fingers as he climbs into one of the mansion's armored vehicles. The engine roars softly beneath his fingers as he inserts the keys.

“Make sure she has her hair fixed” Jason mutters “She hates having messy hair”

The gates of the property wave goodbye to Alfred as he smoothly accelerates the car. The communicator in his ear syncs with the car's stereo system.

“Are you scared, boy?”

There is a pause of silence. A slight hesitation.

“I-” Jason’s voice falters. “I am.”

It has to be terrifying for a young man like him. His mind split between two scenarios: the chaos engulfing the city and the one threatening to take his soulmate’s life.

“I am with you” Alfred says “Tell me what you see”

Jason's labored breathing escapes loudly through the communicator. Alfred has plenty of experienced dealing with panicking vigilantes.

The dry sound of him hitting someone else's flesh disturb the unbroken silence inside the guarded car.

“I-… uh, people are fighting each other” Jason says “Three men. Four women. Got them knocked down before they could do any more damage to each other”

Alfred imagines the scene being described, but he does not say anything. He is focusing his failing eyesight on navigating the less-traveled paths to get to the clinic quickly. The girls are alone in the establishment, waiting for him.

"Where are you?" Jason's nervous voice breaks Alfred’s concentration.

“Getting into 48^th road. East avenue”

Then, there is a longer silence.

___

“Alfred” Jason’s voice trembles “I-I can’t do this. No more”

The Gotham subway has gone up in flames. The mask over his face filters most of the smoke and toxins from the air he breathes.

At his feet, dozens of bodies are piled up against each other. His mind flutters to Alia. Panic engulfs him.

Bruce and Dick would be in the area, above ground, helping the rest of the survivors flee to safety. Jason had returned to confirm that they weren't leaving anyone behind. Carbon dioxide made people dizzy and drowsy, and they could appear dead without actually being so.

"You spat in the faces of Gotham's worse criminals. Did not you think there might be some casualties?” Alfred answers through the comm “Things were always going to get worse before they got better." 

The deeper he goes into what had previously been one of Gotham’s busiest subway stations, the more the lenses on Jason's mask detail the innocent features of multiple lifeless children on the ground. Barely old enough to be elementary school students.

He stops to check vital signs, to take a pulse. He even kicks several of the corpses, desperate for a response. He gets none. There are too many people. Too many dead.

The Joker's gas had reacted to a spark caused by a short circuit in the station. No one had checked if the gas was flammable. They weren't even sure what the hell it contains.

Joker. That bastard. If Jason had done things his way, none of it would be happening.

All those people at his feet, the wounded in the streets, those infected by the gas. Not Akiko, not Domi, not Alia.

Would it have been worth it? Doing it his way would have meant losing all contact with Bruce, and consequently, distancing himself from the rest of the family.

It would have been worth it. Death paces between his feet as Jason kneels to search for survivors.

“Alfred” Jason cries out loud. Kicks echoes through the comm “Am I pig headed? Is it always my way or the highway? Death is all there is here”

The mask filters out the smoke and toxins but it has no way to evaporate the tears running down his cheeks. Jason isn't thinking straight. Those tears burn on his skin more than any fire.

His quest is proving futile, like almost any of his efforts to change anything in the world.

Maybe it is all there was and Jason is, in fact, too pig headed. He always insists on checking for survivors. Maybe there are none this time.

He could have been using his energy on something more useful. Not insisting in playing checks with the death.

“Death stole your fate,” Alfred answers. “, but rather than become a victim, you have done everything in your power to control the fates.”

A soft cough breaks the perpetual silence of the stricken subway station. Jason turns his head to look at it. About fifteen meters away, the lips of a man with graying hair and wrinkled skin move.

His legs shots out into a run before his conscious mind can command them. The man is cold to the touch, but he is still breathing. Jason mentally thanks all the arduous training he'd undergone when he is able to lift him into his arms with little effort.

“For what is Red Hood?” Alfred continues. “If not an effort to master the chaos that sweeps our world.” Alfred says "An attempt to control death, itself."

Running upstairs with a man in his arms was easy. Dodging the corpses of the people whom, in a last-ditch attempt to survive, tried to reach the station exit had been so much more difficult.

Jason holds the man tighter. Above ground, Nightwing's blue suit allows him to recognize his brother from a distance.

Nightwing is standing next to a pair of ambulances with the stretchers out. Paramedics are running everywhere, collecting the people who survived the tragedy. Jason runs toward them. The man in his arms is panting softly.

Alfred doesn’t add anything else, but Jason can hear his soft breathing through the communicator in his ear. Having him in direct line allowed Jason to hear the clarity on his words brought him in the tensest moment.

Jason places the man in his arms on the available stretcher one of the paramedics hands him, and, perhaps out of inertia, the man stretches out his arms to try to reach him again. Like a baby searching for its mother.

Jason is lost at words by the action.

"But I can't, can I?"

He remains motionless, looking up at the scene as the paramedic maneuver around the man and climb into the ambulance. The vehicle disappears into the distance, leaving behind only the fleeting sound of its blaring siren.

"I am afraid none of us can."

Chapter Text

It is the first time since Alia's return that Jason Todd has been able to leave her hospital bed.

It hadn't been an easy task to convince him. He was too terrified of having her out of his sight.

For the last 36 hours, all Jason Peter Todd did was spend the time with his comatose soulmate.

But the fight isn't over yet. The city is burning in chaos and it needs all the help they can get.

So Akiko volunteered to stay by Alia’s side that night while the boys are on patrol. Just to keep Jason's peace of mind that someone trustworthy is with her. Not like anything were to happen, as the whole place is fixed by Oracle’s cameras.

Also Alia is her friend. Her only friend.

There is nothing else Akiko can do, besides. Her parents are thousands of miles away, and there is probably no safer place to be right now than that private wing of Wayne Clinic.

The sound of news broadcasts on television plays in the background as Akiko scrolls through posts on Damian's phone.

Her soulmate left it for her before going out on patrol. Akiko usually doesn't touch his things, but her own phone was smashed the day of the kidnapping, and right now, she could use the quick dopamine rush of social media.

The murmur of the news anchor's voice drowns out the mechanical repetition of the noises from the machines Alia is hooked up to. Akiko shifts beneath the sheets that protects her body from the frigid medical environment.

A nurse enters the room, clarifying that she received instructions to bathe Alia. The task was to be done alone, to protect the patient's privacy. But Jason instructed Akiko not to leave Alia's side at any time, and she has no plans to contradict him.

She doesn't want to leave her side either. Alia is the closest thing to a remnant of familiarity in that huge clinic.

Alia always tried to take care of everyone at all times. Akiko isn't going to leave her side in a moment of vulnerability. Not even on doctor's orders.

Luckily, the nurse agrees shortly after Akiko makes her request.

She is a woman in her mid-thirties, with dark hair and clammy skin. Her hands go with the calmest movements, but there is something about the nervous way her eyes darted around the room that further unsettles Akiko's already frayed nerves.

"My kids are in the city," the nurse whispers when Akiko asks about her behavior. "They're at home with my husband. I called them, and they're safe."

Safe. Akiko is safe, too. The men that kidnapped her are already dead or on the run. She is in the safest place in Gotham at the moment. Her parents are safer, even. Outside the city. Far from any of the Joker's tentacles. Alfred is on his way to them.

Akiko wants to relax, but she can't. Her mind rambles with the incessant worry about Domi's whereabouts.

As they clean her, Alia's body looks even more delicate. Thin as a sheet of paper and battered to the point of breaking.

Akiko is able to comb Alia's hair when the bath is finished. Her black curls fall to the middle of her back, and the teen takes the time to untangle each of the knots that overshadows her friend's hair.

Akiko starts to cry when she gets to braid her friend's hair. It’s a hairstyle her mother used to do when she was a child, and her fine, straight hair wouldn't tolerate any headdress.

She needs to see her parents. Hug her mother and lose herself in her arms. She wants her baby. Domi. Her father's soft touch. Be with Damian. She needs everything to go back to normal.

But it never would, wouldn't it? Damian explained to her how trauma affected the human brain. It happened to him too. The price of his past was a heavy burden that is never fully paid. And he is so much stronger than her.

She is lost.

Akiko cries. She cries so much her eyes dries up. Alia doesn't move an inch through it all. Akiko cries alone, unable to comfort herself.

The only way her crying stops is when her face swells so much it hurts to breathe, and she fears she'd collapse on her friend's disheveled body.

Everything went shit. Her parents aren't there. Her baby isn't there. Damian isn't there. Not even Alia is there at all.

Alia stands out in the frigid room. The braids in her hair and her calm face makes her look younger.

She looks like she is just sleeping.

It’s a strange sight. Alia never sleeps. Not so peacefully. She would have turned insane if she knew she was confined to a hospital bed while the city burns in chaos.

Akiko holds her friend's pale hand, tugging slightly at the pink sweater they'd put on her when they changed her. Jason insisted on dressing her in her own clothes instead of the usual medical gown. His siblings had gotten a couple of women's clothes her size while Alfred gathered her proper belongings.

Jason Peter Todd had been out of his mind. Akiko had never seen him like that before. Not even during his worst relapses.

The boy hadn't been filled with rage, but with concern. His footsteps around the room seemed to have made a dent in the floor.

"Alia hates being messed up!"

Jason gasped as he refused to leave his soulmate's side during the routine hourly check-ins. Each time, Jason had taken the time to fix Alia's hair and make sure she was warm under the sheets. It was compulsive. Like an OCD patient.

Akiko takes a sip of water as she contemplates her friend. The nurse was kind enough to get her a bottle of water from the vending machine. That woman and her comforting voice had been a band-aid on Akiko’s frayed nerves.

After Alia's bath, the bedroom door was locked to keep them safe. More than anything, to reassure the distraught Akiko.

The moment of panicked crying is over, and from the boiling of all those emotions, only an exhausted shell of herself emerged.

Akiko makes sure, with the little strength she has left, to check every corner of the room once the nurse definitely leaves. Alia is still sleeping. It is just the two of them there. Akiko brings the water bottle to her lips, taking another sip.

"We finally meet."

Akiko almost faints when she hears a voice behind her. The water bottle slips through her fingers and bounces on the floor.

It is a woman's voice, calm and silky. With a thick accent. An accent Akiko knows very well. One she recognizes even in her sleep.

"It's a pleasure, Mrs. Al Ghul."

She glances back out of inertia. The female figure smiles at her. Pearly teeth with slightly pointed fangs. In so many ways, she is almost identical to Damian.

The moment Akiko imagined for years had finally came.

“I have heard many things about you.”

Talia walks to stand on the other side of the gurney, in full view of the teenager. She is a beautiful woman. Her shrewd features are very reminiscent of her eldest son, though she lacks the warmth Damian’s eyes.

“All good things, I hope.”

A laugh escapes her lips, stifled by the tears falling down her flushed cheeks. She is surely having a nervous breakdown. What an incredible first impression meeting Damian’s mother, the all-powerful Talia al Ghul.

“I did not expect you to be this tall.”

That sounds almost like a… joke?

"This would not take long, child. I hate wasted time" She says "I understand you are worried about my sons"

Akiko focuses her gaze on her mother-in-law.

“I-I…” Akiko hesitates, “yeah.”

“I am afraid they grew weak” Talia says “I thought the best thing I could do for both of them was to allow his father to bring them here” She adds “, but they are just weak”

Akiko can't believe what her own ears hear. Weak? Damian is anything but weak. What could weak mean to someone like Talia?

Akiko knows she has to watch her words around Talia Al Ghul. Her parents always scolded her for talking way too much. Being very blunt when speaking was one of her most notable weaknesses.

“Domi is a baby. Just a baby” She adds and then pauses “Do you regret giving him to Damian?”

As far as Akiko knows, Talia al Ghul was born and raised a warrior princess. Past heir to a full reign of assassins. Damian has never gone to full extent about his past life but the few details she knows it was horrible.

"No."

Talia folds her slender hands over her stomach and holds the teen’s gaze. Akiko's determination wavers, but she tries her best to hide it.

"You are oddly calm, Mrs. al Ghul," Akiko says "What do you know about Domi?"

Talia is silent for a couple of seconds. Her brow furrows.

"Suffering builds character," she says "Joker knows better than to kill a son of mine."

"What?"

Akiko has to remind herself that Talia al Ghul is fully trained in any and all arts of war and can incapacitate her for life with a single move. She has to remind herself about it multiple times because all she wants to do at that moment is kick her in the face.

"He's two!" Akiko screams. "As in two fucking years! What's the matter with you?"

She couldn't, however, maintain her calm, diplomatic facade in front of the woman.

Not when she is so frivolous about the life of a kid Akiko cares for so deeply.

"The work of my father is... done," Talia explains, unbothered. "I need to rebuild the League. Make it stronger, better."

"Are you out of your mind?" Akiko shouts. "That's your son you're talking about! A baby!"

Is that what all of this is about? The League of Assassins?

Akiko understands why Bruce Wayne himself liked her. Talia seemed to be able to put aside duty even for the sake of her own children’s well-being. Just like him.

“If only it was that easy,” Talia says, and then takes a look over Alia’s sleeping face. “She is beautiful.”

She isn’t even lying. In that inert state, Alia looks like a faded porcelain doll.

“I bet her mother misses her dearly too.”

Akiko can’t tell if her tone of voice bellows a threat or simply an innocent comment after such a conversation. Could Talia possibly make innocent comments? Akiko only knew her through stories from Damian and Jason. Bruce spoke very little about her. She cannot judge her character so lightly.

Regardless of her intentions, Akiko won’t fall twice by being so naive.

“Jason will be here at any moment.”

Talia shakes her head, and a feline smile appears between her crimson lips.

“What could he do?” She says. “I taught him everything he knows.”

Talia’s smile grows sharp. Her hands stretch over Alia's skin. Akiko can only watch the scene unfold.

"He loves her."

"He does."

The machine that allows Alia to continue breathing keeps a slow, steady rhythm. The mechanical ventilator roars softly. Even in unconsciousness, vestiges of Alia's personality linger across the room.

"He will not let anyone come this close to her again." Talia says "I know it."

The woman's bright eyes focus on Alia, then pass over her. Akiko holds her breath.

"The child will be back shortly, Akiko," Talia announces. "You can rest now."

If her words are intended to reassure her in any way, they have the complete opposite effect. Akiko feels her throat close in on itself, and, against her better judgment, she throws herself at the older woman's arm to hold her tightly.

“Swear it to me” Akiko begs. “, please, Mrs. al Ghul.”

Talia al Ghul looks down at her with disdain. Her clear eyes are filled with many emotions, but in the shock of the moment, Akiko can’t recognize any of her true feelings.

“The child will be here tomorrow. Safe and sound. I can promise you that,” Talia answers. “If you promise me to leave my son.”

Chapter Text

Gotham people are pretty fucked up.

Roy is a skilled fighter and prides himself as being stronger than the average man, but Gotham people are brutally crazy.

As the night grows larger, he struggles to keep up with the pace of dozens of citizens affected by the Joker’s toxin.

It is the third night in a row he’s out there on the streets fighting alongside the Bats.

His unexpected visit to Jason is getting longer than what he first expected to and it is no one’s fault but the Joker that the city collapsed into itself. Besides, he has learned a lot on his time there.

Never before he has had the chance to spend that much time with Jason’s family aside from Dick. And they seem unexpectedly grateful for the extra pair of hands helping them out.

It is not an easy task. Roy discovered with horror than the average Gotham citizen is way bigger than the average US citizen anywhere else. What are they feeding them? It’s a mystery with the uprising malnutrition statistics of the city, but truth be told, the Gothamites are all huge.

As he incapacitates a buff woman that attempts to attack a pair of high schoolers going out at night, Roy mentally thanks the new techniques he has been taught by Batman (THE Batman himself!).

Ever since he came back, something was obviously off on Bruce’s mind. He offered to teach Roy a few of his old tricks and that was a chance Roy was not going to miss (Hell, even Oliver would tell him to do it). In a very classic Bruce fashion, the old man offered to chip out with Roy’s kid expenses while he was on the city, and therefore, he graciously sent fifty thousand dollars.

Billionaires are truly crazier than anyone.

He misses being with Lian, but their daily videocalls on his spare time are the highlight on those chaotic moments. For the last week, his life resume on crazy events and hearing his little girl yapping about her new classmates at kindergarten.

It is at five am when he finally decides it’s time to return “home” (As close as something like that could get on a place like Gotham). He lets the team know his final report for that night’s patrol through his comm and then just briefly says goodbye to Cass and Tim, who are also patrolling near him.

It is good to feel again part of a team. Even when Roy fully knows he will never be one of the Bats, they are still fairly open to him being there. It is a strange feeling he had once thought long forgotten ever since all the Outlaws part their merry way.

The drive to the clinic is quick, as he is only a few blocks away. The morning shift is about to start, just in time for him to change clothes easily before entering the building.

The staff greets him with familiarity. After three days coming on a row, they already know him by name. If anything, Wayne’s clinic staff is perfectly polite.

Roy finds Jason on the exact spot he knew he would be: A tiny couch at Alia’s bed side.

His best friend looks miserable. Even more than usual. Dark spots grew under his tired eyes, his disheveled hair falls long over his eyebrows and tiny dark bit of an unkept beard shows up on his chin.

Roy watches him from the room’s window. Jason’s lips are moving. He is gently caressing Alia’s braided hair. She looks slightly better than the last time Roy saw her. This time, her cheeks have a pinkish tint over them. She doesn't look as dead as before.

When he attempts to enter the room, a feminine figure hits him.

“Sorry”

It is Akiko Hoshi. An old acquaintance of the Bat Family and Damian’s soulmate.

Roy doesn’t know a lot about the girl except for the details that were shared with him when she was kidnapped alongside Alia and Domi. With long black hair and tan skin that is adorned with a few bruises, Akiko received the good ending of the kidnapping just because Batman had gotten to her on time.

“How you doing kiddo?”

Her gaze doesn’t met Roy’s as she flinches. She seems still deeply frightened. It’s a normal thing, he supposes, after going through so much. None of the Bats are well known for their comfort skills.

“I gotta go” She mutters “Can you give Damian this?”

On her shaking hands, a phone with a puppy wallpaper shines through.

She is just a young girl that has gone through a deeply traumatized experience completely on her own. As far as Roy knows, her parents are finally on their way to the city as Bruce moved his connections to get them inside despite the current travel restrictions.

“Everything alright?”

Roy’s brow furrows.

“Y-Yeah” She says “, I’m just going to take a shower.”

Maybe it’s something on her face that reminds Roy too much of his own daughter. Maybe it’s just because he misses Lian way too much. He can’t help himself but worry about the girl in front of her.

“I’ll let Alfred know” He answers “Take care, okay?”

As he takes the phone off her hands, she nods and quickly disappears through the corridor.

His mind reminds him that that wing is double if not triple security checked by Batman himself. Oracle is currently watching each camera of its CCTV. Akiko is safe to walk on her own to take a shower. It can help her regain some sense of routine and independence.

He tries to unlock Damian’s phone, just out of curiosity, but the password code is impossible for him to figure it out so he decides to keep up with his plans of getting into Alia’s hospital room but once he gets closer to the door, a deep male voice interposes him.

aren’t you the sweetest thing on this side of hell?

dear angel lacy

eyes white as daisies

did I ever tell you I’m not doing well?

Has he ever heard Jason sing before? He used to do it on their adventures some years before, but he always did so playfully it rarely ever stuck with Roy. Jason liked to improvised rap songs and smart rhymes to fill out the silence during missions, but never before Roy has heard his best friend sing such a soft song.

I try I try I try

But it takes over my life

I see you everywhere

Jason doesn’t sing often. And he definitely isn’t use to sing to sick people on their hospital beds. He isn’t a man of many words, nor of many songs.

Roy remembers Jason telling him about Alia singing to him when he couldn’t sleep. Something about a family tradition of hers. Maybe it’s a way he can feel closer to her now that she’s comatose.

The sweetest torture one could bear

Jason’s voice is by no means good or harmonic. He is not a great singer as Dick surely is. His voice definitely wouldn’t fill stadiums. But it is filled with so. much. emotion.

I’m losing it lately

I feel your compliments

Like bullets on skin

Although Roy can’t fully see him from that perspective, he knows Jason is holding back his own tears by the way his voice crackles down on his singing. It feels deeply wrong to perturbed such a personal moment.

well aren’t you the greatest thing to ever exist?

A deep silence fills the space for a couple seconds before Roy gathers enough courage to finally get into the room.

“Hey man” he says “How’s it going?”

Jason’s green eyes move from his soulmate directly to him. The sole action looks like it takes a lot of energy from him. He seems absolutely exhausted.

“She’s better” Jason answers “Doctor said they are going to get her off some meds today” He says “She should be able to wake up on her own”

Alia is all Jason can focus on. Even letting his own wellbeing aside. It isn’t out of character for him either way. Jason has a pretty strong background of letting his own needs unmet to take care of his loved ones.

“That’s great news” Roy says “Have you sleep?”

Jason keeps silent. He shakes his head and his gaze falls into the ground.

“Roy…”

That is why he was truly on the city. Not to fight criminals. Not to help crazy people infected by the Joker’s venom. Not to learn from Batman (Although it is a very good addition).

Roy is there to make sure his best friend would survive this hardship without letting himself behind.

“You need your energy for when she wakes up” He tells his best friend “You used to tell me she’s always on the go”

Jason chuckles. His laugh lightens up the room in that very special way only Jason accomplishes to do.

“Yeah, Lia’s very energetic” He says and then turns his head to face Roy “. I can’t sleep. I don’t like what I dream of”

His confession doesn’t take the redhead by surprise. Nightmares. They’re a common reoccurrence on the life of any of them.

“Jaybird, it just dreams” Roy says “This is real life, okay? Everything’s gonna be alright”

Jason’s eyes wander far away on the room. His thoughts are everywhere else but on the present moment.

“I keep thinking about the baby” he whispers “the baby and that night”

Jason shrouds. His voice falls a few octaves. Taking his physical language in consideration, Roy suspects he isn’t thinking about no happy memories.

Could he lie and say something overly cheerful? The situation is still shit, but it doesn’t mean it’s completely over.

As long as they keep waking up breathing every day, they can still fight back.

“He’s a Wayne” Roy tells him “They’re as tough as it gets. We’ll find him.” He says, and after a few seconds, he adds “Don’t you wanna go home for a while?”

God fucking knows those Wayne kids are a hard bug to kill. Jason and all of his siblings are living proof of it. Even when dead, they always find a way to get back.

“I don’t wanna see Bruce” Jason confesses “I don’t blame him no more but I can’t look at him without feeling this… this rage”

Jason looks at his empty hands with a hopelessness on his pretty eyes. His eyebrows fall down his eyelids with heaviness. The physical weariness is starting to become more and more noticeable on his best friend. Jason seems to not know he has human limits, even on the worst situations. He is still human.

Roy guesses he hasn't had as much rest those days, as he keeps going on patrol at night and coming back to the clinic earlier than anyone else. It is a non-stop cycle that surely doesn't allow him to have that much rest.

“It’s a totally normal thing to feel” Roy says “but maybe you could get Damian this”

Damian’s phone falls right into Jason’s hands in a single movement. His quick reflexes prevent the device from falling into the floor.

“Where did you get it?”

Roy simply shrugs.

“Akiko gave it to me” He says “She said she’s going to take a shower”

“Yeah” Jason answers “Alfred’s gonna take her to meet her parents today”

Oh. That pretty much explains Akiko’s awkward behavior. Roy almost feels guilty of overthinking the situation. She is just a traumatized kid anxious to reunite with her parents.

“Better then. You should go” He says “Stay with Damian. Take a bath. Change clothes. Sleep on your bed” Roy adds “Shave”

Jason slightly smiles.

“So you don’t like the new look?”

“You know I’d go gay for you at anytime” Roy says “, but this is just not it”

They both laugh together. The same way they used to do on the good old times. It’s a happy moment amidst all that chaos.

“I don’t think I can go there alone” Jason says “, and I can’t let Alia alone either”

The mere sentence deeply offends Roy. He puts a hand over his chest, dramatically exaggerating.

“You know I can stay with her, right? You don’t even have to ask”

Jason keeps silent for a bit. He is truly reviewing all his options. It is a good thing. Roy knows he trusts him, even when his ever-growing paranoia doesn’t seem to stop.

“You’d call me if anything happens?” He asks “Anything. I’m being serious”

“One. Fucking. Hundred. Percent. Mate”

“God, I hate that accent”

Chapter Text

“She told you that?”

Being so close to her, Damian can feel her warm skin tremble. It is the first moment that they both share together since they rescued Akiko.

Between doctors, police and the rest of the family, it had been impossible to find a moment of solitude that would allow both decompressing in the presence of the other.

It is weird.

Damian is a man with wide vocabulary and he usually has no repair to describe any situation precisely, but, if someone asks him to explain what he feels to share such a connection with Akiko, he would not be able to define it.

He could talk about her. About her crazy and dynamic personality. About her inability to stay still. Her fascination with moles. About her taste for brown cinnamon and pearl gray. Her could talk about that for hours. Explain each thing, to the most thorough detail.

But he could not explain what he felt for her. The words would not flow. It is much easier to paint it. Draw it. Take it out through art.

It would better represent his feelings for her, much better than any amount of soy words.

Damian does not believe that he could be able to explain to someone, anyone ever, everything that Akiko means for him.

He could not talk about the way his heart beats when he watched her mix watercolors distractedly. Nor about his broken breaths when he hears her talk about the issue of the week that obsessed her.

He could not, much less, explain the way in which all his walls fell when he saw her that first afternoon holding Dominicus in her arms.

The first time Damian Wayne understood that she would be with him under any circumstance.

Akiko's nails are nibbled. It is an old habit of hers. One she adopted in ninth grade when her parents began to press her to leave her passion for drawing. She used to do it and abandon it depending on the time of her life.

It is a particularly stressful moment, Damian understands. Although she has not totally entered details about her time during kidnapping, Damian notices the profound ailment that the event marked on the teenager's mind.

What he does not wish is to affect her more involving her in such foolish issue as any matter that related to the al Ghul family.

“Yeah” She whispers “She promised Domi would come back. Here. Safe and sound. If I do it”

The heating system inside the car is suffocating him under such new information.

Alfred raffles the most remote alleyways in the city to get to their destination without problems. He is still incredibly competent for his age. Even more with the latest news of the city, the old man refuses to retire.

“I will talk to her” He says “Do not concern yourself with it any longer”

Damian's face remains untainted in the same way. He does not intend to alter his agitated soulmate.

Akiko lets out a long sigh and lay against the padded back seat of the car.

“Thanks, Dami” She says “I wonder if my mom is going to like the new hair”

Damian details the teenager's hair. She keeps maintaining that casual style that showed through all those strands of various shades.

"I do not think that is something she is going to be concerned about”

Akiko's hair already have a few millimeters of root in her natural tone. Time does not stop for anyone. Damian tries to distract himself from his own thoughts.

“She wanted me to have a big change” Akiko says “I think I had plenty for a lifetime”

The comm on his pocket vibrates. He decided to take it off while being with Akiko, something he rarely ever did.

He just wanted to scrap all their time together at maximum capacity.

But the comm does not stop. It must be urgent. Damian shakes his tongue and takes a brief look at the device.

EAGLE TWO SURRENDERED. HOSTAGE ON SITE.

The green letters over the screen let Damian know about the sudden changes on the current situation. He could laugh. Eagle two is a codename for Harley Quinn, being that Eagle One is Joker himself. And for the hostage, he is not fully sure but Damian could absolutely bet it refers to his baby brother.

His mother had been true to her word, as Damian suspected.

He does not appreciate her behavior lately. Not for a bit. And would definitely take matters into his own hands. He will have to do some research before attempting to control the situation. They had been way too distracted with Joker’s affairs to pay close attention to the League. It was a mistake.  

Akiko tries to put one of her nails into her mouth, attempting to bite it even more. Damian intercepts her hand before it reaches her lips, keeping it captive between his fingers.

“Tsk. Don’t”

Alfred takes a brief look to the backseat through the rearview. His brow furrows deep upon his face but he does not say anything.

The rest of the trip is unusually quiet, to Damian’s demise. He wishes to hear Akiko’s talkative voice filling up the silence. But she remains quiet, moving her fingers while holding his hand.

Gotham’s Bay is the only place they could find an exception to the implacable law that prohibited anyone from entering or leaving the city until Joker’s arrest. It was a negotiated exception the family achieved not presenting themselves like their superheroes personas but rather using the Wayne’s and Hoshi's influence and money on their favor.

A white boat is waiting for them on the shore. Beautifully designed for travel through short distances. They had come from a close bay after days waiting for a way to get into the city.

Akiko’s face lightened up once she sees her parents coming out of the boat. She opens the car’s door while it is still moving. Damian’s heart almost stops when she runs out of the vehicle.

“Baby!” Akiko’s mother cries out loud.

Akiko runs to her parents desperately. She jumps into her mother’s arms like a child and she holds her daughter tightly. The tears streaming down her cheeks do not go unnoticed for Damian.

“Mama!”

Her father is crying too. He barely contains the noticeable shaking on his body.

Alfred parks the car with easiness and both of them exit the vehicle to greet Akiko’s parents.

Mr. and Mrs. Hoshi’s look thinner and sicker than ever before. They had been greatly worried about her baby girl for days. Far away from her, with no means to help.

They whispers a few sentences on their natal tongue. They have been living on Gotham for decades but at their heart, Akiko’s parents missed their natal city dearly. They urged to get back there. Damian recognizes a few I love you and I missed you on Japanese.

It is such an intimate scene to contemplate. A close family being able to express their feelings for each other after a profound stressful situation. No screams. No testing. No threatening.

It feels inappropriate to disturb it. In that sense, Damian feels jealousy towards his soulmate. Akiko is lucky enough to have the parents she has and Damian is thankful for her to have them. She is a good girl. She deserves a good family. A good life.

Akiko’s mother lets her go when Damian grabs his soulmate.

It had been a delusion to believe he could deserve her.

“What, Dami?”

She is smiling brightly when he holds her by the shoulders, carefully managing to not put too much pressure on her delicate frame. They are almost the same height, but her trembling skin feels so much innocent under his touch.

“Listen to me” Damian says “Go as far away as you can. Live your life.” He severs “Forget about me.”

The words comes out of his mouth as painful knives. His throat hurts, closing over itself. Maybe he is being to rash to her. Yes. It is about that. He absolutely is not wanting to cry his heart out to her.

“Damian?” Akiko quietly asks, plenty of confusion stroking around her face.

He feels her parents shifting behind them. Alfred quickly passes her luggage from the car trunk to Akiko’s dad. Her mother is clutching her sweater closed with both hands.

“I will reach to you. Not now.” Damian whispers “But I will”

“Damian” Akiko whispers back, completely defeated once she understands the whole situation.

Her eyes crystallizes over him. Her eyebrows furrows deep into her forehead. She tilts her head to the side, in a manner that painfully reminds Damian to his own baby brother. Domi learned to do the same gesture from her because Akiko spent so much time around him they managed to become practically twins.

“I apologize”

“No”

It is quick. Akiko tries to dig her nails into his skin as she holds him by the arms tightly. Her dad takes her away by the waist. Lifting her up to carry her away.

“You can’t do this!” Akiko screams while her dad drags her inside the boat “You can’t! No!”

Akiko’s mother nods on his direction with baffled eyes. And without any other words, she follows her husband and daughter inside.

“DAMIAN!”

Akiko’s scream cuts the silent night short. She tries to fight her way back as the boat’s motor rowing on. It is only for a few minutes, in which Damian only looks at her.

He remains on his position still. He has to remember all the master training he had gone through his entire life to remain collected. He is afraid that if he moves even for a bit, he will run back to her.

Akiko’s movements stop once the boat is considerable far away. Only on that moment she seems to truly realized what has happened to her.

Without her screams and her itchy voice, the night grows quiet.

“I tend to not doubt your decisions, master Damian, but I cannot restrain myself this time” Alfred says “Are you certain this was the best way?”

Damian looks at the old man, skeptical.

Maybe it is not the best way, but it is the most effective one. Damian could handle taking care of the League on his own, maybe with a little help from his family, but he knows he could not handle it well with Akiko by his side.

He would collapse if anything else happened to her. It was already bad enough that she had been kidnapped, even if she had come out particularly unharmed.

It was purely out of luck, because they discovered the only reason she had not been through the same fate as Dr. Gomez, was because her work on some airplane had not been done by the time Batman erupted into the building.

Plans were the same for her. Akiko Hoshi. She could have been fighting between life and death, as the young doctor is. Or worse. She could have been dead if Batman arrived any late.

And it was only the Joker’s machinations. A lunatic with few resources. What could his mother have in mind for Akiko? If she dislikes her so much, there is nothing good.

Damian could handle it on his own. Only if Akiko remains out of it. It would not be forever. They would meet again eventually when everything came back to normal.

“It does not matter if she hates me right now. It is what is better for her” He says “She would not have agreed to come if I told her beforehand”

Alfred stands silently. Hands crossed over his lap. He does not even look at Damian, eyes focused on the navigating boat setting sail away from the shore.

“You are so much like your father under certain circumstances”

Damian cannot distinguish if it means something good or bad.

Chapter Text

Dick could cry.

Under his touch, Domi is warm. Warm like the day he was first brought into their home with his small newborn eyes and his newborn arms and fingers.

Richard Grayson has a lot of siblings. None of them by blood.

First, he believed the other kids at the Circus would be with him forever, thick as thieves. He taught them how to fly across the stage, same as his father did for him. There was a time in his life where he believed that was all he could wish for.

Then, he would have sworn that he hated the other Robins with his whole heart. Those kids that came along once he left Bruce.

Surprisingly, each one of them became a part of him, so deeply engraved into his soul that he couldn’t let any of them go. Being with them felt natural to him.

Dick Grayson was born to be an older brother. He knows it. It is second nature to him to just care so much about all the kids Bruce seems to catch along his journeys.

Even when most of them had little to no idea what truly meant to be Batman’s child.

It started way too soon. Dick was barely a teenager and he was small and scared but there were smaller and more scared kids to take care of.

They were robins to Batman, but they become also Dick's siblings.

Domi rests quietly on his arms. Something he usually didn't do. He used to be the most energetic kid on any place he was, even if he wasn’t able to properly handle a conversation.

He is now, undoubtedly different.

Harley Quinn sits still on her seat at the Gotham PD headquarters. The blood running down her face is flushing off the last remains of a colorful makeup look.

Under those fluorescent lights, she looks so much younger than usually.

“He wanted to kill the baby” She confessed upon her arrival “Our baby”

Harley Quinn’s voluntary surrender isn’t an event on Dick’s bingo card for that year.

Probably something none of them truly expected.

It's easy to forget that Harley herself is pretty young. Younger than Dick even. The records states that she is only twenty-nine years old. Just a fresh-out-of-college graduate when she first met the Joker five years ago, on the last time he had been out of Arkham.

Domi grasps into Dick’s neck tighter when he tries to separate a bit to take a closer look into Harley’s deteriorate figure.

The kid’s emerald eyes stares into him with desperation when he feels the older man getting away from him. Something that didn’t use to happen before.

Dick puts one of his hands into Domi’s back, drawing small circles to comfort him. His baby eyes fill silently with big tears on each of its corners when he lays his head on Dick’s shoulder.

“Mama” He whispers into Dick’s ear “Mama. Mama”

It breaks his heart. She is the one thing they couldn’t give Domi.

As the youngest of the family, Domi has been raised way more spoiled than all of them. Anything that little kid would want, he’d have it in a matter of minutes.

That is just one of the perks of having many siblings than more-often-than-not behaved like uncles and aunts. And billionaire parents, of course.

Dick tries his best to offer some sort of comfort to the child through his actions, but he knows he is hardly what Domi truly wants or needs. Despite giving his absolute best, he is just his oldest brother.

Batman and Red Robin are inside Harley’s cell, alongside commissioner Gordon and a few other police agents. Outside of the room, at least a dozen agents are also watching.

It is the beginning of one of Gotham’s most awaited interrogation session.

And Dick can only watch from afar.

The cell windows are thick. One-way mirrors that allows the other detectives and him to watch the scene without interfering.

Backup is well needed in case shit hit the fan suddenly. Just a precaution. It can still be a distraction from some bigger operation.

“Dami” The baby slurs "Mama. Dami.”

Domi is crying in absolute silence. Dick feels his tears wetting down his shirt. He is growing desperate at his lack of resources to fix the situation.

Dick has a lot of siblings but most of them came into his life way older than what Domi is now. Almost all of them could go to the bathroom on their own and had some sense of independency. Some even had a resemblance of a fully developed brain (Even if they didn't act like it most of the time).

Domi is not even two years old. He doesn't understand anything. He is crying for his parents.

Dick sighs while holding his youngest brother. Akiko is far away from there, sailing in a boat to only God knows where. There is no way Dick could bring her back into the city without Damian's rage unleashing.

Once Oracle saw Talia’s appearance come into a frame on one of the clinic’s CCTV, it was just a matter of time until they got the audio and heard the whole conversation.

To say Damian was irritated is the least. He was absolutely furious with his mother. Bruce had to keep him down until he regulated himself.

To Damian, the whole Joker operation is just a mere façade for his mother’s plans. And it could one hundred percent be, but they still have no clues that led to it aside from Talia’s sneaky words.

“He wants the city to fall” Harley declared “I-I thought not us. How could he? Everyone but us. I thought we meant something different to him”

“Where is he?” Batman’s groovy voice asks “Where is Joker, Harley?”

Bruce and his golden heart. Even under the mask, he is still so deeply convinced anyone deserves a second chance that he is behaving accordingly to Harley, a world renown criminal that happened to kidnaped both of her daughters-in-law and his littlest son.

No violence needed just because she decided to cooperate this one time.

“Our baby… He wanted to give him the toxin. I couldn’t do that. Babies had an underdeveloped nervous system. I would have killed him. Our baby”

Harley moves her head around the cell but the only thing she sees are mirrors that reflect her own disheveled frame. She is looking for Domi while he is crying on Dick’s shoulder.

It is not what Richard first intended. He wanted to take the kid to a hospital straight away. But Domi bawled his eyes out when he saw Batman’s figure entering the place and refused to leave the building without making everyone deaf with his blood curling screams.

As any Wayne, the child has a pretty strong temperament.

“He is not your baby” Red Robin severs “Where is the Joker?”

So they stayed. Dick told the agents he would wait for his other siblings to arrive so they could all leave together. It was a protection warrant they chose to do as their dad, Bruce, was in such delicate condition since he came back from being kidnapped by the Joker.

Jason arrives half an hour after the interrogation first started.

He is wearing the same civilian clothes he has been reusing for the last few days while staying with Alia at the clinic. Black cargo pants and an old gray shirt that has surely seen better days.

A brown leather jacket is hugging his untuned frame as he comes into the room running. Domi screams when he sees the characteristic mixture of color in Jason’s hair.

“Jay!” He yells, while stretching his arms to Jason “Jay. Jay!”

Jason’s facial expression falls to the ground when he leans in closer to hold the child. He doesn’t even care to acknowledge his oldest brother’s presence. It's a no secret that Domi is Jason’s golden child. Probably his most beloved person on the whole world aside from Alia. And the kid adores him in equal parts.

Dick notices Jason holds his breath up until he gets ahold of the kid, then he leaves out a big sigh of relief.

“Hey little man” Jason whispers with the softest voice Dick has ever heard coming out of his mouth “You’re okay.”

Oracle informed everyone about Domi’s presence as soon as Harley Quinn was detected running down Pearl Street, one of Gotham's worst crime alleys.

After that, the collective force of the family move in the perfect synchronization of a Swiss clock.

Tasks were quickly delegated as the police erupted to catch Harley Quinn and the baby on her arms.

Batman and Red Robin helped the police do a seamlessly operation. Orphan and Signal went after any possible Joker hideout as the sun still shine bright over their shoulders.

Dick and Jason would go into the police department as the head representation of the Wayne Family to take care of Domi.

Spoiler would stay at the Batcave to set the next steps out. Selina was to talk her way into the crime alley, to find any hidden clues for the operation.

Oracle would keep her eyes out for everyone.

Dick tried to personally reach Damian to inform him of the most recent news, but he was already out to get Akiko to her family alongside Alfred and he didn’t have his phone on him. He still hoped Damian saw the message they left on the comms.

“He’s on the water” Harley declares “On the air… I-I… We didn’t mean to…”

Harley frantically puts her hands over her ears while tears streaming down her eyes. Batman leans in, putting a hand over her shoulder.

“It is okay, Harls” Batman says “Go over. Take your time”

Harley looks up to Batman. Her blue eyes are framed by her disheveled eyeshadow. A distinctive feeling comes across her frown. Hope.

“He said he was gonna kill me” Harley says “Me and our baby. We’d always talk about having kids”

Dick had had The Talk with Kori too. They both want kids. They both are equally terrified by the idea. But the chance to have mini versions of themselves running around… More than that, the opportunity to raise a pair of kids in a loving, healthy home alongside his soulmate.

It is everything Dick could wish for.

As Harley’s eyes wonder across the cell, blindly, Dick Grayson reflects.

Well, he doubts Kori would be as merciful as Bruce had she been on his shoes.

His mesmerizing fiancée would have burned the whole city to the ground in the most literal sense if anything were to happen to one of her loved ones.

More often than not, Dick doesn’t side with Kori’s radical point of view. He is more aligned with Bruce’s dynamic. He is raised under those deep values. They feel right. But nowadays and after all that happened, Richard Grayson is not so sure of what he believes in anymore.

 “He wants the whole city to burn” Harley says “Not only the subway and the main streets. He wants the ground.”

The distinctive sound of a phone vibration cuts through the silence on the watching room. Domi and Jason gasp at the same time in a cartoonist manner before he quickly realizes it is his phone the one that alarms everyone.

“Ducks. Oh. Ducts. Yeah”

Jason walks away a few steps, child still in his hands. Domi pays careful attention to what he is talking on the phone.

“Water ducts” Red Robin mutters on the other room “He could get the toxin on the water. Fuck up the crops and the water supply of the whole city”

Dick feels his heart beating against his chest. The frustration he is feeling remembers him of an old sentiment he experimented before.

It is agonizing.

“The dam” Batman interrupts “Is that where he is going, Harley?”

Jason comes back, reaching Dick's shoulder from behind. He sweats profusely, despite the whole room being chilly cold. Domi looks at both of his brothers with a tainted expression.

“Alia’s awake”

Chapter Text

Her body aches.

She wakes up in a hospital room. The mattress dugs into her back, causing a stabbing pain in her ninth vertebra. Her muscles feel stiff and tired. The air conditioner is softly rumbling in the background.

A pink blanket with white hearts covers her and Alia recognizes it immediately. It is the same blanket that has traveled alongside her from her hometown to college and then to Gotham. In all and each one of her moves, she has never been apart from that blanket.

The room she finds herself in felt familiar yet strange at the same time.

All hospitals share certain characteristics. Alia knows that. She could sketch out the spatial layout of every hospital she has ever worked in from memory.

Too many hours spent walking through each of its nooks and crannies had taught her how similar the structures were.

She discovers, without much surprise, that she is connected to several monitors: A physiological monitor, to measure her vital signs. An electrocardiogram, to monitor the electrical activity of her heart. An oxygen machine, to track her circulation.

She has a nasogastric tube in her nose. Parenteral nutrition. She must have been unconscious for several days to require liquid alimentation. The bruises on her arms indicate some medication has been injected intravenously.

She breathes in. She is alone in the hospital room, and her body aches. But she is okay. She has to be. She will be. She managed to escape. Survived.

She briefly recalls the events of the previous night. Nightwing found her after finding  she madr her way out of the building. He'd called her name. After that, everything became extremely blurry.

Her bare feet tingles beneath the blanket that protects her from the bitter cold in the room. It is a nice room. Luxurious, by American standards: Cream-colored walls, dark wood furniture, a pair of armchairs for guests, and large windows on both walls.

The room has two doors. One on each side. Alia's previous experience tells her that one would be the bathroom and the other one the exit.

She breathes out. Her head is spinning. She feels slightly dizzy, and the burning in her throat feels everlasting.

She is surprisingly calm. She knows it couldn't mean anything good, but her brain is deliberately pushing aside every negative thought about everything that had just happened to her.

If she doesn't think about it at all, it doesn't feel real. It wouldn't have happened to her. It all comes down to simply resting and recovering. That is it.

Her body aches. Her limbs feel absurdly cramped. Her lungs expand faintly against her ribcage.

There isn't a single sheet of paper visible on the room. No clues that can clarify her diagnosis, but Alia knows that her breathing could improve if she implements Fowler's position.

Sitting up slightly in bed to improve lung ventilation. Fowler's position. She had studied it for dozens of nights at university. It is a strange fate twist that now she herself is the patient.

She could have asked for help. She should have. But she doesn't want to. She doesn't want to see anyone. She isn't ready to talk. Talking meant thinking about what happened. Alia isn't sure she wants to remember yet.

She tries to sit up on the stretcher, but as soon as she places her hands lightly against the mattress, a sharp pain shots through her upper limbs up to her elbow.

A moan emanates from her lips as her eyes filled with inevitable tears.

No.

Tweezers approaching her face. Descending to her hands. Her nails flew across that small room. That small room at the end of the world. The end of the world.

Alia rumbles at the sheet covering her. The pain worsens. It's blinding. It grips every tissue in her body, from her fingers to her elbows, branching out toward her shoulders.

She discovers, with horror, the pressure bandage that partially covers both of her hands. The bandages are stained with dark blood. She knows the technique of that bandage perfectly. She has practiced it hundreds of times during her college years.

No. No. No.

“The most sacred thing for a doctor are their hands,” her Introduction to Surgery professor explained. “Million-dollar hands. Precise movements. Exact control.”

There are two fingers free of bandages on her left hand and only one on her right. Her heart begins to pound in her chest. Alia hears the monitors beeping faster in the background.

No. No. No.

She rips off the bandage in just seconds, just like she did every time she practiced and the knots came out wrong. Over and over again. Hundreds of times for days on end. The purest obsession. It's a movement that comes out naturally to her. An old muscle memory.

The smell of raw flesh and blood fills her nose. Tears slid down her cheeks, soaking her dry skin, but Alia barely notices them.

Stunned, she looks at the tips of her wasted fingers. The bases of her nails are destroyed. The nail matrix on each of her fingers is completely unrecognizable. The skin surrounding the affected fingers is cut into flaps of varying sizes.

Her mouth opens from inertia. Alia thinks for a moment she is going to scream, but all that comes out are a couple of dry heaves that preceeds the vomit that erupts in her throat.

She expells a disgusting mixture. A mass of yellowish, putrid liquid. Alia instinctively flaps her hands away from her body, trying to keep her wounds away from the uncontrollable vomit.

As she pukes, the cannula in her nose seems to want to suffocate her. She rips it away from her face as soon as she expells the last drop of puke.

How many times had she done the same thing to a patient? No one wanted to be treated by a young doctor, much less a sick one.

Nobody wanted a doctor with broken hands.

The monitors blares behind her ears. Alia rips off the bracelets that bound her to them with a swipe of her hand.

Her legs respond with renewed strength from the panic. As soon as her feet touch the cold floor of the room, a chill runs through her body.

Everything blurs out. The world. The sounds. The sensations. The objects. Everything is  a jumble of vague colors that made little sense.

The effort of her entire life. Taking such painstaking care of herself. Avoiding so many things. The hours of study. The perpetual solitude. She had sacrificed everything for a dream. Her dream.

Neurosurgery. What were the chances of matching in her dream specialty, in her dream program? None. Alia had worked day and night to achieve her goal for years. It hadn’t been luck. She had achieved it.

What future did a neurosurgeon with broken hands have?

In surgery, the patient's life depended on cuts measuring millimeters. There was little margin for error. There could be no mistakes.

It was all over. The other people were right. Her weak heart had finally betrayed her. She was too sensitive to be a surgeon. Too innocent. Too foolish. Fault. Her fault.

Her feet stumbles toward one of the doors. Alia struggled to slide the handle open.

A bathroom.

Her hands are bleeding. She locks the door behind her. The sudden movements had reopened the fragile wounds. Fresh blood stain the handle. She has to clean her hands. Hygiene is key to healing.

Surgeons were supposed to have a cold heart. Precise hands. A sharp mind. Alia had none of those.

Her wounds bubbles beneath the icy tap water. Alia shrieks. Painful tears flow uncontrollably from her eyes.

Tweezers. Tweezers pulling out her nails. A yellow light. Loud laughter. A baby. The baby. Domi. Green liquid falling down. On her throat. On her hands. On her skin.

She tried to protect the baby. She screamed until her throat began to spurt blood. They wanted to drown her. She wanted to drown herself. It would have been a much simpler solution to her situation.

Alia had fought to survive. For what? Why? Too much and everything. Everything and too much. For her dream. Her goal. For her family. For Jay. For her life.

Why?

“Alia!” A male voice calls from the other side of the door. “Alia! Are you okay?”

Whose voice is that? Who is on the other side of the door? She couldn't have answered, even if she had wanted to. Her dry throat prevents her from making any sound.

Alia can only stare at the door, motionless. The anxiety inside her body boils with despair.

Joker. Was that his voice? His voice was high-pitched and snorting. Sarcastic. It had all been a dream. An illusion. She was going crazy. She hadn't managed to get out of the building.

The water falling from the tap against her hands drowns out her cries, as does the multiple knocks from the man on the other side of the door.

“I’m Roy,” She hears the man say. “Roy Harper. Jason’s friend”

Roy. Jason always mentioned that name. His best friend. The closest one of all. They could be cheating on her. It might not be true.

Joker would be on the other side, coaxing her into opening the door so he could continue her destruction. He'd want to finish her off. Raze her to ashes.

She hears a whisper on the other end. Two voices mingling with each other. She begins to salivate profusely. A sour taste mingles inside her mouth. Her eyes wonder throughout the bathroom.

She could end it all. Right there. Right then. Before he reached her again. Tie the washcloth and hang herself on the shower rod. The rod looked sturdy enough to support the weightless weight of her deteriorating figure.

Everything would stop. The pain. The agony. The memories. She could do this. She wouldn't have to endure anything anymore. She had no more reasons to endure it. Her destroyed hands were a testament to her shattered future. Everything she had fought for. Years of relentless effort vanished in just hours.

End it all. Her loved ones would support the decision upon learning about her situation. No one would want her to face the Joker alone again. Alia had already done it. She had fought. For them and for herself. She wouldn't stand it a second time.

If she killed herself that day, her family would get over it with time. They barely saw each other anyway. Her friends didn't either. She barely spoke to some of them, only occasional texts. Jason could move on with his life. Finally leave Gotham. Leave everything behind. Even her.

“Alia” This time, it is a female voice that erupts "It’s Leslie, can you hear me?”

Leslie? Dr. Thompkins. Her white hair and years of experience. Her insightful comments. Her prodigious brain.

Alia clutches the edge of the white sink. Her hands won't stop bleeding. She scratches at the scabs until the last strands of flesh separates from her skin.

“I know you must be confused,” the voice says. “But you’re safe. I promise.”

She has to think. Think. It could all be a trap. The possibility of deception is both logical and completely lacking any sense.

“You're scared. I know. I need you to use your head. You're a brilliant woman. Probably the best there is”

Dr. Thompkins would sit with her in the hospital cafeteria to chat. She usually showed her new articles on relevant topics. Sometimes they would chat about music or their lives outside of work.

Leslie. Alia has never dared to call her by her first name. She respects her too much for that.

“You probably can’t speak. The lining of your throat has been severely damaged,” the voice says “Caustic poisoning. Do you recognize the diagnosis?”

Of course she does. Caustic substances burns skin at the mere contact. Potassium hydroxide. Alia remembers balancing formulas on paper. Ingredients. Chemicals. All terrible. All harmful. She'd been ordered to. She'd drunk it.

The voice on the other side of the door is silent for a moment. The sound of water running through the sink drain drowns out the aphonia of the situation.

“Y-Yeah”

Talking feels… wrong.

It hurts, like all the other movements she forced her body to perform. It hurts like water falling against her mangled hands. Yes. But there is something else.

She doesn't recognize her own voice. The tone of her voice emanates from her throat several decibels lower than she remembered. It sounds like listening to a stranger speak.

“I know you do. You’re one of the most promising doctors this city has,” the woman says "You made it. You came out alive. But you need help. Let us help you.”

Leslie? Can it really be her?

Maybe it isn't a dream. She really made it out of the end of the world alive.

Trusting feels wrong. The water continues to fall on her hands, but Alia no longer feels the pain. She doesn't feel any sensation in them. It is for the best. The sound of the water tries to calm her racing heart.

On the other side of the door, voices begin to whisper among themselves. She can't make out what they are actually saying. Perhaps they are devising a way to break into the bathroom using brute force.

Break down the door and pull her by the hair. Break her legs. Drag her across the floor. Physically, she couldn't fight them. She couldn't fight anyone and win. She is a lamb waiting for the wolves to figure out how to open the door to the slaughterhouse.

The world around her starts to spin so fast that she has to lean back against the sink to avoid falling. The walls are going to collapse on top of her.

The whispering outside the door stops abruptly. Alia notices immediately. That can't mean anything good.

In the wild, abrupt silence only means danger.

“Lia … You’re here.”

Chapter Text

“ Lia… You’re here.”

That voice... It needs no introduction. Alia could recognize that voice even on her worst days, at her worst moment. She could tell it is him just by listening to his breathing.

“Open up, please.”

Jason. Her Jason. Her boy. Her soulmate. The desperation in his voice breaks her heart.

She rushes. Her body responds to that voice out of inertia, long before her better judgment determins whether it is the best option or not.

She doesn't care whether it is a trap or not. If it is, then they knew exactly how to get to her. The need to be with Jason has eaten her from the moment she'd parted away from him.

She unlocks the door with clumsy, desperate movements. The distinctive click that indicates it is unlocked is barely heard when the handle turns.

The door is open.

He enters, swift as a flash. Jason. In all his grandeur and splendor. Her Jay. Her boy. Her soulmate.

Watching him walk into the bathroom feels like a dream. Is it really happening? Alia's insides tremble as Jason approaches her.

He has a tired expression. Dark circles under his green eyes and deep expression lines dotted his face, but his eyes shines with incomparable power. He looks as fascinating as the first time she'd seen him in that murderous alley.

She holds her breath, frozen in place by the sink. She fears that if she moves, she will break the illusion. The dream would end. Jason would fade into nothingness, just as he had before.

But he doesn't disappear. Instead, his hands move cautiously up. Jason's fingers darts toward her face, trembling.

It is instantaneous. The second Jason's fingertips make contact with the swollen skin of her cheeks, Alia feels the world around her stop spinning.

There is only him.

Every detail of his face remains the same, yet at the same time, he has changed completely. His eyebrows sit unkempt above those radioactive green eyes that so deeply fascinated Alia. His skin is dry and worn out. The same three moles on the right side adorned his chin.

A scraggly beard that is just beginning to sprout is one of the most striking changes from her memories of him.

Jason strokes her cheek as gently as he can, almost as if he is afraid of hurting her just by having her there.

His green eyes. She missed looking deeply into those eyes.

Jason's lips part hesitantly. He keeps staring at her. His eyebrows furrow, his eyelids drooping over his eyes in a grimace of longing.

Longing. Jason looks at her longingly even in that state. He is there. With her. Really. She can feel the weight of his hands. His body heat. The smell of his skin.

An instant occurs. A moment in which neither of them say anything. He dares to move closer. To let go of her face to wrap her in his arms. As if he can't contain himself any longer being near her.

Alia allows herself to close her eyes. To savor the calm that being with him brings her.

She is finally with him. His memory kept her alive. He has given her the strength to fight to survive. Alia had a promise to keep. To him. To her Jay.

“You’re here,” Jason whispers. “Really here.”

His chest rises and falls against Alia's head. Her ears are at the perfect height to hear his racing heart working. The pulsing sound emanating from the organ soothes her.

“My… hands”

Her fingers are shaking. When she opens her eyes to look at him, Alia realizes Jason is crying.

Heavy tears fall onto his cheeks. Jason's entire face is wet. The skin on his face has turned completely red. His lower lip trembles as if in spasm. His breathing is shallow. Warm breath emanates from his mouth.

His lips contracts into a thin line as he checks the wounds on her fingers. He keeps her close to him the whole time, one arm around her neck. He never stops holding her tightly. He looks afraid to even think about letting her go just a few centimeters away.

Jason tucks a strand of hair behind her ear after finishing his inspection, smiling at her with a hint of sadness.

“I know. I know,” Jason murmurs. “They’ll be okay. You’ll be okay. You just need time to heal.”

When he speaks, his composure is full of strength. Perhaps he just wants to calm her down. To hide the undeniable truth of her health condition.

It doesn't matter. His words comfort Alia's weary soul. It has been a long time. Too long, perhaps. And she is finally reunited with her boy.

“Let me take care of you,” he says to her. “, please.”

Chapter Text

Alia stays quiet at her site by the window.

It is a warm afternoon evening. The chilly winds from the past months are finally getting behind them.

Alia holds herself tightly, arms crossed over her chest while her blue eyes wonders somewhere in the far distance.

She remains silent. It is odd for her. She had a lovely voice. It filled every corner of the Manor with her non-stop yapping alongside Jason.

Alia was the only one who could make him talk so much and for so long. Everyone in the family was just so glad to hear them both talk for hours, because it meant Jason was still in the house, something that didn’t happen quite often before her.

It seemed to be a gift of hers. People felt comfortable around her soft gestures and her easiness for words. They often shared more than expected simply by being with her. She always had something to say and was a pretty good listener.

Bruce doubts to enter the room at first. Alia’s new place at the Mansion had been organized in the most comforting way: Scented candles, the softest blankets and brand-new locks all doors and windows.

Staying at the Manor together seemed like the best option for her. The safest one yet. At least until they are able to catch the Joker and everything could come back to normal.

Surprisingly, Alia has not been against it. She moved out of the clinic directly to the Wayne Mansor with a couple of bags that Jason had carefully packed up for her. She was absently comprehensive during the whole process.

Leslie said she was still in shock and that it was fairly common for people on that kind of situation.

"She will get better with time," Dr. Thompkins said, "as long as she allows herself to feel and heal"

Alia remains quiet the whole time ever since her arrival the previous night. Only caring to sleep and taking her meds.

Jason guarded her door like a wild animal.

It is difficult to be able to help her without knowing what she really went through. Her medical examination shown signals of physical distress and dehydration but it was not very conclusive.

There was no evidence of sexual abuse but there was a couple unexplainable bruising inside her body. Her organs were scattered and abnormally functioning. There is just so much that can be inferred without Alia’s own recall.

Alia is one of the most important witnesses for the Joker’s investigation.

She is the only remaining survivor of the whole operation that is in seemingly good health. Most of the kidnapped were brutally killed before they even got into the scene and those who were not, are either dealing with large health sequels or, just like Akiko, far away from Gotham itself.

That is why the police wants to get her statement as soon as possible.

Gordon tried to work his way through him, with soft words and promising favors. He wanted to get to the young woman, but it had been completely impossible.

Jason had been adamantly against it.

Ever since Alia returned, he has been at her side at all times. Bruce has never seen his own child being so careful with anybody or anything as he is with Alia. Jason seems to melt whenever he is around her. It physically pains him to watch her suffer.

The changes in Alia's personality are rather noticeable.

She is a shell of her former self. She firstly  entered the mansion with soft, inaudible steps. Her arms were crossed over her chest. Her nervous eyes scanned the walls. One of her hands gripped Jason's arm so tightly that her knuckles turned pure white.

Loud noises now frighten her. Soft noises too. Her gaze wonders for long periods. Alia is there, physically, but it is clear her mind has not left that building.

There is no human way on earth a police officer could get close to Alia. Jason would never allow it. Not if he feels it could disrupt her.

"The questions! The lights! The answers! What else do you want from her?"

It would have been easier to convince Superman to stop wearing blue and red than to change Jason’s decision.

No one wants to get Alia’s debilitated state of mind out of control with a police visit. Much less, no one wants to deal with an angry Jason Peter Todd.

Often times, Bruce thinks of Jason and Red Hood as two separate entities. One is his lovely son. The child he took off the streets and did his best to raise. The other one is a criminal lord, capable of doing many things.

Red Hood is ruthless. And with the greatest of regrets, Bruce has to admit that he is also painfully skilled. One of the best at his job. Cherry on top of almost anything.

Red Hood loves Alia, as much as Jason Todd does. But while Jason loves Alia on his brightest capacities, holding her scattered hands and comforting her cries, Red Hood loves her like a wild animal loves his instincts. Deeply, intrinsic, dangerously.

Bruce knows it would only take a brief hit. A single miscalculation. A bad word. Jason’s state of mind is pending on a string so thin it is barely visible from time to time.

Alia remains quiet. Eyes set on the window in front of her. Same position as she has been for the last twelve minutes. Barely missing a heartbeat, she does seem to notice Bruce’s presence on the room, but she does not seem to care enough about it.

It is thanks to Alfred’s intervention that Bruce had been allowed inside Alia’s room.

Jason and him are definitely not on the best terms. They had not fight but the tension is rather palpable in every minute they spend together. A tale as old as time. They both are trying, at least, to remain civil and cooperative for the good of the city.

Their old man and his conciliatory words led both of them to an agreement: Only Bruce, Bruce "Brucie" Wayne, not Batman, could have a brief conversation with Alia.

There is nothing set that prevents Alia from having a friendly conversation with Bruce Wayne, a man that she already knows, and somehow, respects.

It would be easier to talk with Bruce Wayne than with Jason, because they all knew that anything that Alia would confess to Jason from her time spent with the Joker, would make him go absolutely insane in the span of mere seconds.

Jason agreed to it but set his own terms: As long as it happened on the early hours, with the sun still rising over their heads and he had to be at the Manor at all times while the conversation happens.

Pretty fairly, Alfred convinced him to get together in the kitchen to bake something for the family in the meantime. That way, he would still be near his soulmate and at the same time, he would be occupied with something else to not go insane by his own anxiety.

Jason’s bunny, Goody, jumps through the room with her fluffy paws, carefree. She has been a good companionship to Alia, as Bruce has been told. The pet is familiar to her owner, and she seems to have miss the woman as well.

“Doctor” Bruce says “I am pleased to see that you are awake. How are you feeling?”

Alia turns around. Her dark hair dances in wide circles over her shoulders. A few straggly strands partially obscur her glowing cheeks. Goody sniffes the air with her pink nose.

She is sitting on the bed facing the window, a tablet resting on her tightly crossed legs.

It has been Tim's idea: An efficient way to communicate with others while her throat finished healing properly.

I’m good

Are you okay, Mr. Wayne?

“I am” Bruce says

Alia’s healthy fingers move across the tablet with easiness. It is a curious sight to behold. The way she skillfully manages to push the words together using her pinky fingers.

I’m glad you’re back home safe

I was fearing the worst

“There were rough days, but I am back with my kids. That is all that matters” He says “I worry about you. Have you talk with your parents yet?”

Alia’s body language changes. Her body flinchs and her shoulders tenses up.

Yes.

She writes a single word, and then waits a couple seconds, just watching the screen in front of her in total silence.

Talked with my family

I miss them

Mom sent her best wishes

Dad asked for a callback when you have time

Bruce Wayne is not the best one at making small talk. As much as he tries his best to learn all the proper ways to get to people. Sometimes, like that time, he gets inyo hard topics without intended to.

“They are good people” He says “They care a lot”

Alia writes without even looking at the screen:

Yes.

 Her eyes are carefully observing each one of Bruce’s movements.

“Not everyone is like that. Especially on this city”

Alia presses her lips together furiously. It seems to be difficult for her to not use her own voice. The muscle memory on her brain is trying to get her to talk.

You care

“I… try” He says, and then nods his head “Do you feel safe here?”

She is a smart woman. She takes the hint immediately. Bruce knows it. She tilts her head to him before writing on her tablet:

When are the cops coming?

Did you talk with them?

“I did” Bruce confesses “I told them my side of the story. No many details I’m afraid. I spent a lot of time on an empty room. Too little clues.” He says “I think you could help them much more than I did”

Alia’s injured hands let go of the tablet. It falls right into her legs. The bunny stops her exploration of the room to carefully watch the situation unfold.

“Jason was absolutely against you going through an interrogation” Bruce adds. “, but I am afraid this city needs you”

Alia remains still, sitting perfectly straight at his side. Her chest starts to moved vigorously with each breath. She bites her lower lip with such force it makes her bleed.

With a shaking hand, she writes:

I dont wanna see strangers

Im sorry

“Jason told me that but I wanted to confirm it” Bruce says “I too think it’s no time for cops yet.” He adds “Besides, Batman and the others can take care of Joker themselves, can’t they?”

Alia smiles ironically. Her fingers move automatically over the tablet.

Jason hates Batman.

The words written over on the screen cut through Bruce’s chest like the sharpest of the knives.

Is it really that unexpected? After everything they had gone through, it should be not surprised to him.

But it still hurts.

“I do too” Bruce confesses sincerely “Most of the days. I feel he does not know what to do anymore”

It is a tough spot. I don’t think I could do it

What he does

“I…” Bruce mutters “I don’t know either. It must be a heavy burden”

Alia remains as quiet as she has been the whole time, only making her presence notable by her soft breathings. She keeps looking at him with her enormous blue eyes. She blinks slowly.

“We all have burdens” He says “My father… He used to ask every time: How do I help? In every situation” Bruce explains “You remind me so much of him”

He was a doctor too

Alfred told stories of him

He begins to sweat. Bruce can feel her staring right into his soul.

“He was a complicate man” He says “, but deep down, he had a heart of gold”

He is a legend on medicine here

People still talk highly of him

He has to remind himself there is no way she could humanly stared into his soul. She just has rather intense eyes and he is predisposed to feel guilty because of his questionable actions on the past.

“I would have love for you to meet him. He’d have love you” Bruce sayd “Another doctor on his bloodline? He would have been as happy as a puppy”

Alia seems to think her answer for a bit before typing on her tablet.

He wanted you to be a doctor

“Yes” he answerd “but I could never… It’s just not my thing”

Not for everybody

Bruce has been told the same thing over a thousand times. From everybody: Dr. Thompkins, Alfred, his kids... But Alia’s words feel sympathetic. Like someone who truly understands  the deep burden that kind of profession holds and would not want to share it with anyone else.

Bruce truly likes Alia. She is a good woman. Smart, witty, kind. She is exactly what he pictured as Jason’s other half of a soul. She is so much like his son in so many ways.

Caring for others even when hurt. Perceptive even when in pain.

“Dr. Thompkins gave me a pretty good prognostic for your hands” Bruce says “Just a few more days. No nerve damage. That’s good news”

Bruce takes a look at Alia’s bandaged fingers. They are completely immobilized and need to be cleaned up every couple hours. The medicine for her injuries is over the main counter top, so everyone can remember when to put it on her.

Alia nods silently at his words but doesn’t wrote any answer on her tablet. It is the beginning of the difficult part, Bruce feared. The conversation is good, so far, but he has to take the hard turn for it to truly mean something for the city.

“Doctor” Bruce says, and after a pause, he adds “Did they do anything else to you?”

Alia hesitates. She looks at him and then back down to her tablet and then up to him again. Her breaths became shallower. She clenches her jaw before typing:

Tried to drug the baby

The woman stands still, absently looking at the words on the tablet. Bruce feels the urge to hold her by the shoulders to offer some sort of comfort for the next part, but he does not act on those thoughts.

“Alia” Bruce says “I know I am not your father, but I care about you”

It is like hearing Alfred’s voice coming out of his own mouth. Those are his words, not Bruce’s. They rehearsed it.

“I can protect you, but I need you to trust me” Bruce says “I need to know what happened to you”

Alia trembles as she hears the words. Fear overpowers the shine on her eyes. She holds the tablet with such force the screen begins to turn white.

They wanted me to kill the baby

Kill the city

Choke

Kill the world

I did it

Her pupils expands so much they eclipse the lighter color of her eyes. A physiological reaction motivated by fear.

She is remembering things. Things that evocate such a primitive reaction on her body that she begins to explain it in rather vague terms despite being pretty eloquent during the whole conversation.

“Alia” Bruce carefully says “What do you mean by that?”

Alia watches him. Truly watches. She is a smart woman. One of the smartest maybe. She could not be fooled by Bruce’s dumb façade. She knew he knew what she was talking about.

Her fingers move vigorously over the tampered screen:

The toxin

I created it

Tears began to fell down her lushy cheeks and Bruce fears she will become inconsolable, as Jason warned him, but Alia Gomez cries while sitting perfectly straight, with such ferocity on her eyes it makes Bruce realize the true nature of her character.

She writes down:

I can replicate it

Chapter Text

From the first moment he'd seen her, Jason knew he’d do anything for her.

He remembers that night with vivid precision: the sounds from the alley, the stabbing pain in his leg, and the way the light bounced off his soulmate's skin.

Soulmates. What a curious concept. It is still something science endlessly challenges throughout and throughout. Two souls destined to meet, or two halves of a single soul? What was a soul? The theory of quantum entanglement explains some aspects of soulmates, but not them all. There are many gaps. He doesn't fully understand it. No one truly does.

Jason dreamed about her hundreds of times. Before and after his own death. He heard her voice inside his mind, like the ghost of a past life he couldn't quite remember.

How many times has he clung to that voice as his only anchor to reality? To the idea that there was someone out there whose life was intrinsically connected to his own. There was someone who cared whether Jason Peter Todd lived or died. Someday he was meant to meet her.

He hadn't even considered the idea of ​​having her as a romantic partner at first. That isn't what soulmates are about. It is a unique connection with another human being. That same connection can have many nuances.

Friends, companions, partners in crime. Jason simply liked the idea of ​​having someone there for him, and of being someone special to another person.

It hadn't been until a conversation he'd had with Dick, where he casually mentioned the idea of ​​asking Alia to share an apartment together —From his point of view, it sounded like something purely practical: He could help her with her chores, like cooking for her and making sure she ate a balanced meal, and she could help him fall asleep. God only knew how well he slept beside her. Her mere presence relaxed him to unimaginable levels.

Dick laughingly pointed out that these were very obvious signs of falling in love. So particularly obvious that he had to explain them in detail to his little brother.

(Who wanted to share a bed every night with a simple friend? Even if nothing sexual ever happened, Jason was particularly jealous of his personal space, and now he is suddenly willing to share it with someone else? Daily?)

His brothers laughed at him, but romance has never been Jason's strong suit. He can be very attentive and perceptive, picking up on all kinds of clues and details during investigations and in combat, but the art of love is a subject that often eluded him.

In that sense, all the years of psychosocial development he lost while being dead went against him.

Jason knows almost every detail about her. Listening to her speak was his favorite pastime. Memorizing every little gesture, every particular quirk of hers. It fascinated him as much as piecing together the details of a case until he finally determined the identity of the criminal.

Just that at the end, Alia isn't a criminal. There is no dark background, no traumatic childhood. She is just her. His Alia.

According to his family, Jason has an obsessive personality. He'd find a subject he was passionate about and become engrossed in it until he knew everything about it. He can't help it. Perhaps it runs in the family.

And now that Alia is his subject, there is no element he would leave unexplored.

He feels ridiculous holding the tray of cookies in the middle of the hallway. The dark, distant aesthetic of Wayne Manor contrasts starkly with the cheerful dessert decor.

Even standing alone in the middle of one of the mansion's many hallways, Jason can hear the murmur of the city. Cars crashing into each other, screams, police sirens, and ambulances. Chaos. Gotham is falling.

And he finds himself holding a tray of cookies in the middle of a hallway, working up the courage to speak to his soulmate. The anxiety growing inside him bubbles as if it has a life of its own. He can not longer distinguish between his own feelings from Alia's.

There are more important things than the city’s situation. Or at least things he needs to take care of first. He wants to talk to Alia before going out on patrol. It would only take a moment, as much as he hates the idea. His family needs all the extra helping hands they could get. The city needs the.

He hates to admit it, but Alia comes first to him. He hates to admit it because it means she is undoubtedly, irrevocably his weak spot. His weakest spot. The woman with the beautiful smile and pure feelings. The one with the gentle temperament and vast knowledge. She is his weak spot.

And he, stupidly, allowed them to find about her.

Still submerged in his thoughts, Jason continues walking. Alia's room is on the ground floor, near the kitchen —well, relatively close to the kitchen. Space within the mansion is absolutely relative, considering that place is absolutely enormous.

As he walks, he notices a slight disturbance in the air. A different vibe. It is peculiar considering most of his siblings are out of the mansion, trying to control the chaos within the city.

No. There is something else. Jason pauses and waits. Clutching his hands into fists. Beware.

Damian appears from the shadows, silent as a whisper. His arms are at his sides. Even in the dim light of the hallway, the dark circles under his eyes on his collapsed face are painfully evident.

Damian looks at him up and down, scanning every aspect of the scene. The youngest is a man of many words, but his disruptive nature has never make him any less observant.

Jason briefly imagines what Damian would be seeing at the moment: A huge, scarred man, crouching against the hallway wall, holding a tray of cookies in his trembling hands.

“Is she doing well?”

The words that emerge from Damian's mouth sound just as droning as usual, with that hint of disinclination that characterizes him. Jason knows that behind that facade of impudence, the entire situation, both the Joker's and Talia's, had greatly affected his little brother.

“She’s trying” Jason mumbles and then, pauses for a moment “, we’re trying”

He would have liked to ask him about his situation too. To ask how he is handling the whole situation, how is Domi adapting to being back. The words just won't come out of his mouth. He simply can't talk about it.

Jason just feels extremely tired, as if a building had collapsed on him. The events of the last week exacerbated the perpetual fatigue in his battered body.

Damian remained still, impassive on his side of the aisle. He crosses his hands over his chest, in a simple, elegant gesture that reminds Jason too much of his mother. Damian looks at him silently for a moment before continuing:

“Father is not planning on telling you when we depart”

The words pierce Jason's chest like daggers. It is something he'd suspected before, but hearing the confirmation from Damian's mouth still hurts.

“I guessed so”

Jason grips the edges of the cookie tray so tightly he is afraid it will bend over. His own voice comes out as a dry, hollow sound, devoid of any emotion.

Some things would never change: Bruce would still be a control freak, and he would still expect his father to change.

Jason takes a deep breath, trying to stay calm. He feels like a fool to think Bruce could have truly trusted him enough to include him in his plan for the final blow.

The disappointment on his face must have been obvious, because Damian presses his lips together in silent discomfort and quickly adds:

“He wants you to stay back. Take care of them when we go”

Jason thinks of Alia and her mangled hands. He thinks of Domi and his non stopping crying. He thinks of Alfred and his aging body.

“You know I won’t… I… I can’t do that”

The two stand at opposite ends of the hallway, sharing a silence laden with profound reasons. There are many unspoken reasons why they both know Jason simply can't stay behind if it come to take on the Joker, no matter how much he wants to be with Alia.

It would never been done.

Jason knows Bruce, and his complicated way of thinking. He'd probably want to go alone, completely alone. To leave them all behind to “protect them”. His stubbornness only complicates things even worse.

It isn't the first time Jason and Damian had both found themselves participating in a shared heavy silence.

Jason fondly remembers those days in the League of Assassins, when a little Damian would chase him everywhere and for everything. It had felt so difficult back then, but in retrospective, those days seemed easier than current times.

“I know” Damian says, and then he pauses on his tracks, after scanning him again “I will inform you, akhi”

Akhi. It means my brother. Damian has spent too much time without using that word to refer to him. It used to come out of his mouth so easily when he was younger, even when on those earlier days when he first arrived to the Mansion and insisted to stick around him even when he always said it bothered him.

“Good”

It is the only thing he is able to mutter. His head spins around. Too many thoughts. Too much memories. Jason wishes he could silence them all with a hit.

Damian nods his head and moves along his merry way. Jason inhales deeply through his nose, still holding into the cookies’ tray. He whispers a silent prayer, to whoever may hear it, to gather the courage required to not going completely insane.

He is really trying.

He could feel his old ways breathing on his neck, whispering on his ears. It would be easier. A quicker way. A permanent solution. It takes everything from him. To not go completely insane again.

The adrenaline rush. The quick cash. The utterness.

Jason shakes his head and continued walking toward Alia's new room.

He hates the thought of taking her from the comfort of her home. Alia truly loved her apartment, its chaotic mess, and all her colorful things. But the priority right now is keeping her safe; everyone understood that, and there is no safer place in all of Gotham than Wayne Manor.

He forces a comforting smile and tries to straighten his posture. He wants to look his best for his girl.

His girl.

When he opens the door, he finds her sitting curled up in the corner of the room. It isn't at all the sight he'd expected.

Her dark hair falls straggly in front of her face, and Alia's skin is clammy and glistening. She is sweating profusely despite the cool air provided by the mansion's integral air conditioning.

She looks up at him, but her unfocused eyes watch something far beyond him.

Jason's body's response is immediate, a merendar afterthought. A natural reflex. He runs over to her, the tray of cookies falling on the bedspread in a jerk. His legs buckle at the feeling of her closeness.

From that angle, Alia looks even smaller than usual. Shrunken and distraught like a lost infant. She whimpers, breathing raggedly like that horrible night when her heart stopped.

Jason holds her in his arms, calling her name, but she can't seem to focus on him.

He gently holds her face for inspection, and notices her pupils are dilated, so much so that they encompassed almost the entirety of her eyes. Jason gathers the hair that has fallen wildly over her shoulders and wraps it in his hand, pushing it away.

Alia bawls like a sick lamb, frantically shaking her head in denial. She is surrounded by a dozen papers containing a series of scribbles that Jason finds incomprehensible. A couple of stray words. Names of chemical compounds.

“No, no,” Alia whimpers.

He doesn’t know what to do. She is clearly having a panic attack. The scene unfolding in front of him prove it.

The mess, the scattered papers, even the tablet Tim had specially set up for her lay broken near her.

The lack of response, the blank eyes, the paralysis and incoherent words… Alia has never been an erratic woman, and Jason has had dozens, if not hundreds, of panic attacks. It's way too obvious.

Dark rooms. Wooden chairs. Crowbars. If he closes his eyes, he can recreate it all perfectly. At his worst, anything—a sound, a place, a smell—could trigger an attack that completely incapacitated him.

Jason holds her on his arms, unsure of how to proceed. Alia grips his forearms fiercely, digging her nails into him to get closer.

Jason ignores the pain and presses his lips to her sweaty forehead, planting a kiss laced with words of encouragement. He calls her name, but she doesn't seem to recognize it.

Alia buries her head in the space between Jason's neck and shoulder, where his skin is most delicate and vulnerable. Normally, had it been anyone else, Jason would have fled at the slightest hint of physical contact, but this is Alia.

His Alia.

Instead, Jason has to fight the urge to hold her tighter in his arms.

"You're here," he whispers against her skin, "with me."

Alia dugs her nails into the skin of his arms more forcefully. Her tears falling against his skin feel warm.

Jason settles himself on the floor and lifts her completely onto his lap, where he begins to rock her gently, on the same fashion Bruce used to do to him when he was younger, whenever Jason felt distraught.

"You're safe," he says, in the gentlest voice he can muster, "can you hear me? You are safe. I'm with you"

The moans stop for a brief moment as Alia's body tensed. She peeks her glassy eyes through the curtains of hair that cover her face and timidly nods.

Jason recalls those precious moments with Bruce. The old man managed to distract him from his worst fears simply by being there, sharing his presence with him, and talking about anything but whatever would have been bothering him at the moment.

Not knowing what else to do to improve Alia's mood, he chooses to follow his father's footsteps.

"I made, well, we made you cookies," Jason says. "Lemon cookies."

Alia tilts her head, listening intently to his words. Jason finds stupid to talk about lemon cookies and pastries at such a delicate moment, but it seems to work. Distracting Alia's nervous mind seems to take her mind off the traumatic events she was immersed in.

"I know they're your favorites, and I know you haven't eaten anything today," he adds "Would you like to try some?"

Alia shakes her head and nestles back into Jason's neck. She releases her grip on his forearms but curls her hands into fists and places them on his chest with a tired gesture.

“I-I don’t want to go out.”

Alia’s voice cracks as soon as she begins to speak. The natural confidence that characterized her every word is a thing of the past. Jason takes a deep breath and closes his eyes to calm and keep from crying himself.

“He’s still a threat until he’s dead."

The voices from his past speaks to him from inside his head, but this isn’t the place for revenge. Someone has to do something. Definitely. Jason clings to Alia’s warm skin tightly to fight the urge back.

All he has been working for those past months: His sanity, his family, his girl. All was going down. No matter how much he tried to keep them all safe.

It isn’t enough.

“No problem,” Jason replies to her softly. “We can stay here forever, okay? Just you and me.”

Chapter Text

Alia is hurt. She is scared. It must have been difficult for someone like her, as unaware of mortal problems as she used to be, to discover such horrors existed.

“I hear screams” She whispers, her gaze is lost at the half open window “… fires”

Alia is trembling in his arms, bawling like a scared little lamb. Jason found her huddled by the window, covering her ears with bloody hands and muttering nonsense in the middle of a panic attack.

“I did it” She cries out loud “I m-made… it”

There is a guilt covering off her eyes. Even through her slurred words, Jason understands her pain. It aches on his chest too. He doesn’t have the whole picture. Alia hasn’t truly talk about her time with Joker but he can only imagine the worst of the worst. Their shared connection as soulmates also lets him experiment a fraction of her feelings.

Jason holds her for way too long, until all the whimpering cradles against his chest stops.

Alia cries. She cries for her mom. She cries for her dad. The bandage on her hands rips oven. She is hurt and scared and seemingly can’t understand any reason outside of her own.

In such moment, she feels no more than a large child in need of her parents.

“I…” Each word seems to come out of her mouth filled with melancholy “… loved Central City”

He passes his fingers through her disheveled hair. The strands curl around his fingertips. He lets her cry. Jason leans closer to his girl.

“I bet you did, munchkin” He whispers, eyes still focused on the locks around his hand “Central City is fun. Much better than Gotham”

Alia looks up at him, lips pressed against each other in a thin line. She stops to think, pupils dilatating as the wait grows longer.

“We…”

He can feel her back expanding against his chest. Soft, trembling breaths. Her throat vibrates when she speaks but she does it so slowly, taking long spaces between words. It feels odd. Jason is used to her voice filling up every space of his life. -How did everything change up in just a few days?

She smiles tearfully, looking back at him with eyes full of skirmish. A look so intense it makes Jason hold his own breath.

It doesn’t matter how much Alia struggles to speak, she’d fight the pain back. Her desperation to fill the silence with words is notable each time she tries to communicate as she used to before.

“Flash is quick”

It is the first thing that crosses across Jason’s mind, on his best effort to distract Alia from her worst thoughts. No good would come out of remorse. Alia nods at him, silently.

“I met him. He’s great”

The dog that wept after its kills is no better than the dog that doesn’t. Who used to say it? Memories fuse together in the back of Jason’s mind as he keeps on his effort to calm his soulmate.

“B took me to his house when I was a kid.” Jason adds “He was crazy for Cheerios as so was I. We spent the whole evening eating it with yogurt. I ate so much I ended up throwing up the whole night”

Alia seems contended with the story. She has always been a pretty good listener and lately she has been very homesick. Especially now, when she holds to his clothes with such ferocity.

“Talk”

Jason is not as much of a good storyteller, he fears. He too considers himself to be a much better listener than a talker. That is why he prefers reading books more than anything else. He can know the stories without having to add too much in.

“Uh, B took care of me that night” Jason says “He cleaned the bathroom afterwards because I was too ashamed to let Alfred see the mess I made. I was so afraid of him when I was little”

If he stands still enough for too long, Jason can still feel the overbearing presence of a much younger Alfred around him. Like a shadow that never quite disappears. An omnipresent figure that watches him from the back of his mind.

“Alfred used to be, uh, stricter” He simply explains “Everything had to be a certain way. We had to be these perfect people or he’d go insane.”

Truth be told, Alfred Pennyworth is the true head of the family. The master of shadows. His word is law around the place, even to Bruce. There is no one as highly respected around there as him.

“He scared the shit outta me but I was also a little shit too”

Alia softly smiles and even giggles! It’s a beautiful sound to hear. Even if just for a brief second before she needs to stop herself to cough.

“Hey! It’s true! I gotta be fair!” He says “It wasn’t easy for him either. To raise Bruce and the businesses and Dick’s rebellion and then there I was stomping on his pristine couches with my dirty kid feet”

Who could blame the old man? Jason was a crazy kid. A wild one even. He has stories for centuries to tell her.

“We used to be the bestest friends, Bruce and I” He says “We got to go around the city every night and had fun. It was so cool”

Of course, the implications of those nights out aren't meant to be explained. Not yet. There would be a time and a place for that. A less complex time, surely.

Alia seems much calmer, immersed in his words. Her frown has relaxed, and she is now resting her head against his chest. Her hair covers her pale skin. She looks sickly tired under the white lights of the room.

“You should sleep for a bit, munchkin, don’t you think?”

Jason’s words act like a turning light bulb for Alia: She immediately sits up, turning away from his chest and instead, holds him by the forearms.

“Stay”

She shakes her head frenetically, and, in a gesture that truly captures how much she wants him to be there, she adds:

“I-I like… Gotham”

The words are difficult to mutter, but she still does so. Well, it is obvious she really likes the city. There is no other explanation as to why she had chosen to stay there for so long.

“My city’s a good city” Jason says “She might be a little crooked at the edges but she’s good. There are no people like Gothamites”

Jason has thousands of stories to tell about the Gothamites. Despite their chaotic reputation, there are good people among them, even if the bad guys stood out more on the public eye.

“We always help, even when we don’t have much” He adds “Even our heroes, they are not that different from the rest of us”

The last sentence stirs something in Alia. She freezes in her place, keeping her breath captive for a few seconds.

“Batman…” Alia mutters, looking as conflicted as she is letting go of her last breath “… kills?”

That simple question. Two words. Eleven letters. Jason has asked himself that same question for years. He has never gotten an answer. At least not one he wanted to hear. Hearing it from someone else —his very own soulmate— unsettles him.

However, he hides his discomfort behind a smile that he hopes will reassure Alia.

“No, obviously no. Why…? Why would you say that?”

Alia looks at him, her huge blue eyes wide with determination. She seems to want to make him understand something he isn't quite grasping yet.

“Flash…” Each word comes out of her mouth painful slow “… kills”

The surprise is so deepened arraign on Jason’s chest that he loosens his grip on Alia. His brows furrow. He knows Flash kills. Maybe it is not his first instinct to do so but he is also not afraid to get his hands dirty if it means to protect the weaker.

It is still weird to hear the words come out of Alia’s mouth. Jason stops to look at her, truly watch her, for the first time in too long.

“What did Bruce say to you?”

He searches her body language for details. Any signs of unease, of surprise. Anything that might indicate she is about to spill a big piece of information, or that she is purposely hiding something from him.

Yet Alia's heart rate remains steady. Her pupils don't constrict. Her breath doesn’t quicken.

“He asked…” Alia struggles to said “what’s joker’s… plan”

Jason breathes out. He tries to maintain his composure. Mainly for her sake. He doesn't want to upset her any further. He has to watch his words. No matter how much he wants to rant at Bruce for trying to involve her in his hidden agenda.

“Yeah, Harley Quinn confessed” He answers, trying to brush it off the situation “He planned to poison the water from the dam but the whole place is secured now”

Alia shakes her head, her thoughts seemed to be somewhere else. She quickly points to one of the piles of papers stacked around her.

“Not… compatible”

Scattered around, a single sheet of paper catches Jason’s attention: With a messy handwriting, a word is highlighted over the others:

FAT-SOLUBLE.

There are more questions than answers in Jason’s mind.

“Harley confessed, Lia” Jason hesitantly explains “she said he’s trying to get on the water. Gotham’s dam supplies water for the whole city through its ducts. He could poison everyone on a single night if he gets access to it. We’ve got it managed”

Alia shakes her head desperately. Her eyes move around the room as she’s putting on her best efforts to communicate something using more than words.

“Docks!” She harshly mumbles “Benzos won’t mix w-with water!”

Alia coughs harshly. Even when she covers her mouth with her two hands, Jason can tell a few drops of blood come by her lips. He offers her to stop the conversation multiple times but she refuses, insisting on her own words: benzos won’t mix with water, benzos won’t mix with water, benzos won’t mix with water.

She is so emphatic it makes Jason hesitate about the things he already knew. He remembers Harley’s words: He’s on the air. On the water

Could have they misunderstand the words? Harley’s speech slurred the words together just because she was way too frightened while they were interrogating her. She had cried the whole time, Dick told him. Jason hadn’t stay long enough to hear the whole thing, as Alia woke up during it and it felt way more urgent than whatever other deal there was.

Alia's hasty efforts to explain her suspicions only serves to increase the ever-growing paranoia in Jason's chest.

“Is that where you think he’s at?” Jason asks “Alia…”

He doubts for a second. Jason stays quiet, still holding her on his arms. Alia’s lungs are rhythmically expanding.

“What do you know?”

Jason regrets his own words the moment he sees her whole face turn crimson red as she presses her lips together. She opens and closes them, gasping for air multiple times.

It looks like the beginning of a serious panic attack and he curses himself mentally for being the one to trigger it.

“I made” she slurs the words together and then takes a big leap of air “… his poison”

The compulsive way she starts crying reminds Jason too much of himself for her own good. She snuggles closer to him, clasping her tiny hands around the fabric of his clothes like a castaway holding into a piece of wood.

“I’m sorry” The apology comes out naturally from Jason’s mouth. The same one he has been practicing since her getting back home “I’m sorry that you had to go through that, Lia. It won’t happen again”

He'd wanted to apologize to her from the first moment he'd seen her again with her body softening in his hands, but the murmur of her heart fading in his arms has been too distracting. It stopped the whole world around him.

After that fateful moment, everything has become a perpetual race —Getting to the hospital, Harley Quinn's surrender, Akiko's expulsion, meeting Domi again, and her recovery.

How many days have passed? Time seems to move so fast and so slow at the same time. He hadn't found a suitable moment to talk to her. Everything felt so rushed. He didn’t want to keep hurting her anymore.

Alia looks at him, her crystalline eyes fill with tears, and nods. She manages a simple smile that foreshadowed the acceptance of his apology.

“I’ll fix… it”

She points at the papers scattered around the room. They all have her clumsy handwriting on them. With frantic gestures, she bends down to pick up a couple of papers.

"Bruce won't... understand."

Some things are truly difficult to understand. Jason can’t blame Alia for thinking little Brucie Wayne don't be able to get it all. Lia is a genius in her field. She handles complex concepts and abbreviated things that seems obvious to her. Her notes are a jumble of chemical balances and clinical formulas applied to different scenarios.

Still crying, his soulmate insists on reviewing the concepts with him. For the next hour and a half, Alia takes it upon herself to explain them to him as best she can, even if it means pausing every few words to cough bitterly. She refuses to accept Jason's multiple offers of water, rest, or food.

That hour and a half feel like a painful sigh. An instant frozen in time. Jason has to ignore the pang in his chest every time he sees his soulmate choke on a few words. He can't say anything to her; Alia won't heed his plea for rest.

Still reeling from the trauma, his girl is a tough nut to crack.

Alia's simplified explanations makes him realize, with horror, how wrong their assumptions about the true nature of Joker’s toxin had been.

Bruce and Tim framed all their theories based on the assumption that the toxin could mix with water and, in sufficient concentrations, it could contaminate the entire population when ingested, but they'd been missing a key part of the picture.

Alia. Her clever mind and her stupid decisions. She formulated the toxin based on a compound that was incompatible with water. Similar in nature to oil, the toxin could never have mixed indistinguishably with water. They had different densities. The toxin wouldn't be able to pass through the city's pipes without first evaporating or merging into the atmosphere.

Jason wonders if that’s why they'd chosen to torture her, instead of simply rushing her execution, as they'd tried to do with Akiko.

In his mind, the idea makes perfect sense: If she is the only person capable of perfectly understanding the formula, it would make sense that she'd infuriated the Joker by not following his instructions exactly.

They couldn't have killed her, even if they'd wanted to, not until she explained every detail of its creation.

Jason watches as Alia caresses the bandages that poorly cover her injured fingers. Her eyes reflect such melancholy and he suddenly understands her message: There was no other way.

Alia chose to disobey, and with that choice, she potentially saved thousands of people. Even if it cost her one of the things she valued the most on life.

"I d-don't…"

Alia's lips are pale. Each corner of her mouth is highlighted by the traces of dried blood that clogged her mouth every time she coughs. Her eyelids droops lazily over her tired eyes. She holds a handful of papers containing her own handwriting between trembling fingers.

Jason realizes that Alia’s renewed strength is coming to an end. The last doses of her medication would be wearing off by now, judging by her exhausted expression.

"You should get some sleep, munchkin. For real."

For the first time, Alia seems to reason with him. It is either that or she doesn't have enough strength left to arguae with him. She looks at him, blinking slowly for a couple of seconds.

Her soulmate clutches a handful of crumpled papers against his chest, and with an insistent look, she runs a hand near her face in a cowl gesture.

Jason understands the message perfectly.

Red Hood

He helps her get into bed, take her medication, and stays by her side, holding her until the labored breathing in her chest calms.

Alia's closed eyelids give him the confirmation he needs to leave the room; her notes pressed against his chest.

His thoughts are racing. Red Hood. Joker. Batman. Toxins. Tim. Gotham. Kill. Too much emotion.

He needs to study the situation thoroughly.

Alfred Pennyworth discovers Jason amidst the darkness of the kitchen. He stands there silently, just watching. In that particular way that reminds Jason of Bruce Wayne himself.

Alfred watches him somberly, almost like he knows everything. His deepest thoughts, his worse regrets, his inner conflict. Alfred watches him carefully, with a sarcastic glaze on his eyes that speak to Jason from the darkest corners of his already fractured mind.

Alfred watches him for a few seconds. His eyes glaze with despair. Eyes that speak by themselves. Eyes that scream at him.

Are you man enough? It is the sentence that dances across each one of his eyebrows. Alfred doesn’t say a word, neither of them does. They stand there, in the complicit darkness of the Manor’s kitchen.

Jason drinks another sip from his cup but the liquid taste bland around his tongue.

That night, when he lays beside an asleep Alia, a single thought tortures him. It keeps him awake the whole time. He is going insane again. Not even Alia’s warm body can keep him from submerging into that one sentence.

ARE YOU MAN ENOUGH?

ARE YOU MAN ENOUGH?

ARE YOU MAN ENOUGH?

The moon infiltrates through the window. It reflects softly against Alia’s pale skin.

ARE YOU MAN ENOUGH

TO TAKE THE BLAME

FOR IT?

Chapter Text

“I want a shallow grave”

Jason finds himself on Alia’s room once again. It is a late-night event. He doesn’t know how did he find his way back to her after too many hours drinking and studying on the kitchen table. What time is it? He can’t tell. The numbers on the clock over the night table stack over each other.

“Don’t say that”

The words slip off his mouth. Alia is talking about something he can’t even allow himself to think about. He is not going to allow it. Never.

She is standing barefoot. Dressed on a pinkish nightgown and a gray zipped down sweater. It is the first time she stands on her own in a long time. Under the pale moonlight, she doesn’t look as sickly.

“Water lilies, Jay” She whispers “I want them nearby. I have loved them since I was a kid”

When he details her, he notices she is holding a flower on her hands. Perfectly healthy hands. Her nails are even painted with an orange color.

“Don’t say that”

It must be a dream. It is the only logical explanation Jason finds for the whole situation. That’s it or he got drunk enough to let his hallucination unrailed. Again.

“It’s just a matter of time” She says. There is a brief moment of silence, as she guesses her words before continuing “I don’t think it’d hurt as much”

The flower is a vision of purity, its creamy white blossoms contrasting beautifully with the deep emerald leaves that cradles it. Alia pats it with gentleness.

“Uh?”

“Being dead”

He freezes on his spot. The moon shines through the window curtains that Alia faces. Jason breathes in but the oxygen doesn’t reach his lungs.

“How…? How do you know that?”

“He told me” Alia explains. Her nails caress over the pinky petals “He wanted to scare me”

Explosions and loneliness. Wetting his suit with the blood of his legs. The same suit he had taken care with such devotion. A red timer going off.

Jason shudders. He tries to shake the bad feelings away. Alia doesn’t look at him.

“There’s nothing to be afraid once you’re dead” Jason says “, but don’t take my word for that”

She knows now. He doubts Joker has scattered any details around. He must have told her everything he knows about it. Just laughing. Just joking. He must have told her about his death. He took that from him too. The freedom to tell her about it on his own terms. On his own time. There is nothing he can hide anymore. Everything has been exposed.

His death. His pain.

His madness.

“You’re not gonna go anywhere, right munchkin?” Jason asks “You promise?”

He feels small looking at her, like a tiny child needing reassurance that his beloved wouldn’t suddenly disappear now she knows the truth.

Jason remembers the blood on his hands. On his legs. On his face. What would Alia think of him now? He remembers the devotion with which she cures the broken with no questions asked. Only answers. Alia has her own way of always offering solutions for everyone.

Alia turns around to face him. There is a pink tone over her blushy cheeks. She gets closer. Really close. So close that Jason can feel the warmness of her breath against his chest.

It is a dream. It must be. That is the only way Jason gathers the courage to kiss her.

He leans down. The world around him fades into a blur. It just the two of them freeze in that exact moment. His heart races like a wild drumbeat echoing in his chest. She gasps. A soft huff that sends a thrill through Jason’s spine, igniting a fire that has been simmering just beneath the surface.

Her lips taste salty. It is electric. Soft yet insistent. Jason is desperate for her. How could he have restrained himself from her for so long?

He tastes the sweetness of her lips, the salt of her skin. The essence of everything he has ever wanted.

It’s intoxicating. It’s overwhelming. A rush of emotions crashing over him like waves against a shore. He can feel her pulse beneath his fingertips, a steady reminder that she is there, real and alive.

Real and alive. Alia trembles under his touch. She feels real. Too real. Even if everything else dwindles with eeriness, this Alia is real. Painfully real. Lovingly real.

He wants her. He needs her. Everything and anything she has to offer. Jason wants her joy, her sadness, her melancholy, her excitement. She’s just everything. A cascade pouring into him. He drowns in her.

As he finally pulls away, he finds himself breathless and vulnerable. Their foreheads rest together almost instantly. It is a deeper need for connection. Reassurance. Jason gazes into her eyes. She smiles at him softly. Breathless as well. Her lips have a deep red tint over them. Inflammation.

He realizes that the kiss was more than just a meeting of lips; it is a silent vow —A testament to what they truly are. Aside from all those shy moments shared together. Soulmates, but not only that. A connection deeper than that.

He is hers. Completely. Unfazed. Entirely. There are not doubts left. Hers. In every way and every aspect. It sounds way too good to be truth. Alia smiles back at him. Her eyes glow in the darkness.

“I can stay” She says, letting her head rest on his shoulder “Just for tonight”.

When he wakes up laying on her bed at the Manor, Jason holds Alia tighter. The dizziness from the past dream he has just woken up from grasps him around a pure state of confusion. It doesn’t take too long before she wakes up as well.

One of her eyebrows goes up high. She stares at him with those puppy eyes of hers. Jason knows she knows it too. A shared dream. It is something uncommon even for soulmates. Especially from not magician ones. Simple humans that are just a part of each other.

“I love you, munchkin” He whispers “I really love you”

The words escape from his lips with no restrains. Jason has to pretend it doesn’t scare him to the bones to love her as much as he does.

This time, Alia is the one to press their lips together. It’s an innocent kiss. A softer one. This time, her lips taste metallic. Like old dried-up blood. It is still as intoxicating. Jason submerges himself into her for an instant. The instant they shared together.

When they separate, it’s bittersweet. They stay in a shared silence. A common knowledge goes around both of their minds. A certainty. A decision taken. They hold each other closer.

It is their last night together.

Chapter Text

Jason is gone.

When Alia wakes up that morning, he is gone. His father informs her with half of a tired smile.

He tries to be comforting, but he looks just tired. There are dark circles under his eyes. His breath smells like brewed tea.

Brucie Wayne puts a hand over her shoulder. Alia shakes. The world feels suddenly closer to her.

His side of the bed is still warm. A pillow has his silhouette engraved into its fabric. There is a half-drunken glass of water on the bedroom floor.

She deeply inhales and her fingers dance around a loose string from her sweater. The one that Jason carefully picked out for her stay at the hospital. Bruce Wayne says something about being sure she gets enough rest.

Coma. She thinks of the words. It rumbles around her tongue. A prolonged state of unconsciousness. It is a weird feeling. She has taken care of dozens of comatose patients and now she has been on their position too.

She remembers their faces. Their stories. All of them. It’s hard for Alia to ever forget something. The details scramble on the insides of her mind on each passing second. If she had been any sort of artist, she would have been able to take the memories out of her.

Turn the pain into art. But Alia is hardly an artist. She spends the first few days restricted in her room, obsessively studying on the few notes of the toxin. Her annotations over the formula are scattered all over the room. The numbers and chemicals fuse together into concepts only she can determinate.

Vulnerable and alone. Alia looks at Jason’s family losing their minds over his disappearance over the next couple days. She feels like a ghost amongst them, so high on pain meds that she can barely talk. It so obvious she doesn’t fit on their complicated dynamics once they all start fighting and getting away. Maybe neither did Jason.

His presence keeps her accompanied on her solitude. Alia fears she is absolutely going insane when she starts to feel him in the room. Internet says it’s a common reoccurrence for soulmates with strong bonds, but it doesn’t ease her fringed nerves.

She would like to be able to mad at him. Something that could only happen if she wasn’t the logical thinker that she always took proud on it.

What kind of person would she be if got mad at Jason for running away? His voice fidgeted on their shared dream in such a delicate manner… He knew. As bad as Alia wanted to not think about her time spent with the Joker, it’s impossible to vanish the truth under a rug.

Jason is something that should not been. No, not something. He is a man out of time. Out of his time. His life ended ten years ago, and somehow, he was still alive. Her mark, the one she shares with him, pulsates calmly and as long as it does, it means that Jason is alive. That is the only thing that allows her to fully breathe on that horrible first day.

“Do you know where he is?”

It is Richard Grayson, Jason’s older brother, the only one that comes up to her to talk in the early afternoon. He looks as tired as their father but his soft smile holds so much more warmth in it.

Alia shakes her head. What is she supposed to tell him? She doesn’t know where Jason went but she can feel his heart beating like a second pulse inside her chest. Richard —Or Dick, as he requests to be called— stays at her side for a while and keeps on trying to take the truth out of her chest.

“You can tell me, Alia. Just me” Dick says “It-It’s my little brother. Please”

Alia doesn’t answer. At all. Even when Dick Grayson begs. If Jason doesn’t want them to find him, she isn’t going to give him away. It’s not like she has any specific clues either. She knows him. She knows he’s after the Joker, and if anything, Jason would hate to involve any member of his naïve family into whatever he’s planning to do.

A man out of time. Alia traces her mark carefully. Her skin itches under the bandages.

She keeps on working even when Richard goes away. She can’t use her hands to properly write her calculations down, so she solves them mentally. Hours go by her window frame, contemplating the Wayne’s Lake while she thinks of a solution.

On the next few days, they barely talk to her. Bruce goes to her room every morning and spends a few minutes with her. He tries to chit chat casually but his eyes speak otherwise. He is terribly worried.

“I know we’ll get to him soon. The police are looking for some new clues. Don’t worry” He says, but Alia knows he’s lying.

It is comforting to have him there, at least. Surprisingly, he cares. Even when she feels like a ghost. He doesn’t pressure her to talk. Instead, he tells her about Akiko’s newly found time visiting her grandparents and how some of her old patients are recovering. When he catches her attention spam fluctuating, he asks her to stay with them.

“This place is empty enough” Bruce Wayne says “, stay here.”

It is the first time he does not lie to her.

The days grow larger. The Wayne family disappears. Do they go to the police station again? Alia can’t ask. Her family calls her on Jason’s phone. The one he left behind on her night table. The image of her smiling parents does not make her relax at all. They promise to figure a way to enter the city soon, but Alia knows they’re lying. No one comes in or out Gotham except from essential workers.

The city has become a mousetrap.

She checks social media. Some of her colleagues texted her a few sympathetic messages. There are a thousand reports about the Joker. There are very few about her. They use her graduation picture for one article.

Young Alia smiles back at her with her multiple lip piercings. Her eyes are filled with a determination that is hard to hide even from old fashioned cameras.

Alia tries to walk around the corners of the Manor once she feels slightly better, but it feels deeply haunted without all of its member rambling around. The place is so utterly big that she doesn’t cross paths with anyone for hours.

A haunted mansion. Was it like that for Jason growing up? Before Tim and Stephanie and Damian and Cassandra and Duke. When Dick was far away and it was only Alfred, Bruce and him… Was it like that for him?

There are no news about the Joker. He is still missing and people is still dying. There are not medications able to help the effects of the toxin. People are resorting to drug use to cope with the aftermaths.

Alia has another attack on the third day. As much as she doesn’t want to admit it, Jason’s absence starts to eat her alive. She tries to not think about him, at all but the news channel doesn’t stop broadcasting and the reporter’s voice is making her sick.

She sees the faces of her old patients dancing up on her mind. They scream so loudly that she can hear them even when she covers her ears with such force she fears she is going to tear them apart. She can feel them watching her all over. There is no place for her to hide.

They are out to get her. Alia hears his laugh in a close corner of the room.

“Get up” A male voice says to her “I know it hurts but you have to get up”

Damian appears through the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. At first, Alia can’t distinct his figure from the multiple shadows that try to climb to her. She’s almost convinced he’s someone else, someone that’s there to catch her again.

“It is only going to feel worse if you keep doing this to yourself, Alia”

He kneels at her side. His slinky eyes scan her untidy frame. There is a certain affinity hiding on his glaze.

“You are strong. Get up”

She hugs him. She can’t help it. There is something in the way Damian softly talks to her that reminds Alia too much of Jason and she just fucking misses him. Pretending she is not afraid to the bones that whatever plan he is making is going to cause more damage than good is eating her alive.

Damian hesitates for a bit, but he covers her with just one arm. His fingers place over her shoulder.

“I know it hurts. I know this is difficult. I know you miss him” He tells her “, I miss her too”

She clings to Jason’s little brother with desperation but he doesn’t stay for too long. Just enough to reassure that she is not going to hurt herself on a maniac episode. He suggests her to join them for diner. Alia shyly agrees. Maybe it can be good for her to come out of her room.

There are only three people on the table. Bruce, Damian and her. Someone mentions something about Alfred excusing himself from diner, but Alia knows it’s because he is taking care of Domi, whom they have been hiding from her with excessive precaution.

It is a quiet evening, truly. Alia discovers that Bruce and Damian do not speak as much with each other as she suspected. They engulfed their diner in a tense silence.

It is up until Bruce mentions something about Damian’s mother and he speaks back at his father unintelligible words. Some foreign language he also speaks, Alia discovers.

She stays at the dining room after diner. The family talks. Alia nods. They have plans. She doesn’t listen at them. She doesn’t ask any questions but she starts to form a plan of her own.

Chapter Text

Alia is going insane.

Jason feels it deep inside his bones. All that rage, the sorrow, the pain… It was laying asleep on him. Quiet. Contended. He has grown used to it. Let the time do its thing. He could have managed it all, there had been no true need for her to known such horrors existed. He would have been happy to carry it all.

He chose to keep peace amongst the others. He had his family, his friend and his girl. It was all he ever could wanted. All he had wished for his entire life.

Peace. The sole thing he wanted since he was a kid, while having to take care of his junkie mom. He wished for a family, but not as much as he wished to be able to sleep through a whole night when he was five.

Run and hide on his own city is not something foreign to him. Gotham embraces his homelessness graciously. The crime alley salutes him with warmness. It feels like visiting an old friend.

There are not many clues to look for. Only the few that he could extract from Alia’s words and the police files.

She is going insane. Jason knows it. Her eyes linger for too long. Her body never stops twitching. She barely listens. What was once a well adjusted, independent adult is no more than another broken mind. Another casualty.

Jason hates himself for it.

He misses her. Desperately. On his first night alone, when he is visiting an old acquaintance of him to gain some insight on the current docks’ operation, he smells someone using her perfume across the street.

The woman smells almost like her. It’s the same tropical fragrance but it lacks the deepness of Alia’s essence. It’s not the same. No one could be the same as her. Not to him.

When he was younger, freshly moved with Bruce, he was an avid reader. He loved to devour the books on the old family library. Never before he had had such a vast selection to chose from. Every book was an open portal to an unlimited universe of knowledge. It was heaven to an impressionable mind as his.

Sometimes, Bruce would sit down and read with him, or he would simply stay to hear him yap about his latest reading. It was the best they could do, aside from their nightly escapes. It helped them to grow so much closer.

There was a particular book Bruce insisted on him reading. The Little Prince. It was about an explorer lost in a foreign planet. Jason was nine years old and already struggling with his own sense of identity. It was truly that sordid time when he felt an incommensurable jealousy towards Dick and felt overly protective over his new life.

Bruce had insisted for a few days up until Jason agreed on rushing to finish his most recent book to pick up the new reading. At first, it seemed boring: It had a simpler vocabulary than most of the classics’ authors Jason enjoyed and it had way too many drawings throughout all the pages. Like a children’s book. And at nine years old, Jason Peter Todd was far away from being a child. He was a grown-up.

“All grown-ups were once children” Bruce read out loud a fragment of the book to younger Jason “, but only few of them remember it”

The Little Prince was one of Bruce’s favorites, or at least it seemed like that. Jason was not such a fan of children’s books.

“Here. Keep up with the paragraph”

Bruce passed the book down to Younger Jason. It was a hard-cover with a blue tittle. It had the drawing of a small kid over a moon looking at the distance. Bruce showed him where he was last reading from the pages and insisted him to keep going.

“I am looking for friends.” Younger Jason read “What does that mean? Tame?"

Bruce patted the top of his head with a pearly smile. “Keep going” He would say. Jason nodded, and kept reading along.

"Just that, said the fox, to me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other.”

Bruce nodded, silently listening to the reading speed of his younger ward.

“To me, you will be unique in all the world."

There was a pause. A moment of silence that led enough space to be filled with their skimpy breaths.

"To you, I shall be unique in all the world.”

 The young narrator seemed to be reflecting something on that chivalrous mind of his. Bruce stayed quiet.

“This is a weird book” Younger Jason would say “, why would a prince wanna tame a fox?”

Then, Bruce would laugh. That melodically laugh of his that engulfed away most of horrors. If Bruce laughed it means he was having a good time, a good day even. There were nights when he didn’t say as much as a few words. Younger Jason didn’t enjoy those nights.

“Don’t precipitate, Jason” Bruce answered “If you rush into conclusions, you would not catch all the details”

Younger Jason squeaked, but he still obeyed Bruce’s suggestions. It was for the best.He usually knew a lot.

“People have forgotten this truth, the fox said, but you mustn’t forget it. You become responsible forever for what you’ve tamed.”

Jason thinks of Alia, his soulmate’s life pulsing methodically like clockwork under his skin. She is still with him, despite being dozens of kilometers away.

It's late. By that time of the night, she must be sleeping. She must have already taken her ten o’clock meds. Those blue pills that help her get some resemblance of a peaceful rest.

He glazes at the woman on the street and although she is beautiful on his own, her presence is a painful reminder of everything that Jason has left behind when choosing on going solo.

“An ordinary passerby would think my rose looked just like you." Younger Jason read ", but my rose, all on her own, is more important than all of you together"

The pages on the book were soft. Thick sheets of paper of top notch quality. They felt so nice under his thumbs.

"Since she's the one I've watered. Since she's the one I put under glass, since she's the one I sheltered behind the screen.”

Younger Jason liked reading out loud, especially with Bruce at his side. It made him felt better, less lonely than on those past nights on the street where there was no one to talk to except for the occasional junkie.

“Since she's the one for whom I killed the caterpillars.” Younger Jason read out loud “Since she's the one I listened to when she complained, or when she boasted, or even sometimes when she said nothing at all. Since she is my rose.”

Bruce looked pleased. A subtle smile grew on his face. It was a rare merit to provoked a smile on such a serious man. Younger Jason liked to see Bruce smile. He’d keep reading that awful book if that pleased him. He would do anything to please Bruce.

“Are you liking the book now?” Bruce asked

“Nope” Jason answered “, but you’re right. I have to finish it up to make a decision”

It's as painful as choking.

People starts to wonder why he becomes so tender headed. Although Red Hood has never been known for being too calculated, but there has been a long long time since he was this violent.

Jason misses her. Her voice, her warmth, her attitude. He moves mainly at day; on those hours he knows Bruce and the rest are still sleeping.

They all can do amazing things, but they are still humans after all, and they tire as all humans do. They have been going on extensive patrol nights for more than a month now. No breaks. Only a few hours of rest on mornings before restarting it all.

It's predatory. Jason thrives on their disadvantages. He can keep up with his accelerated pace just because he hadn't been on patrol as much just because he prioritized staying back to care for Alia. Still, he knows it’s not enough.

He moves like an animal chasing its prey. The streets begin to talk. He is back. There are no corners. No shortcuts. There are no spaces left behind where Red Hood is looking for information.

Sooner or later, they are going to find him. He has to keep going as much as he can. He is careful, but Jason knows that he is still as imperfect as it gets. Hopefully, the chaos that engulfs the city keeps Bruce away from him long enough.

The city is big enough bu his biggest advantage is that they don’t have any clues of where he may be. That is unless that Alia decides to tell them what they talked before he went away.

Jason knows his soulmate way too well. He knows that she is not one to go around spilling secrets. Especially lately, when she can’t keep her mind on the present long enough.

She is going insane. The clocks tick against Jason. Red Hood has to find a way back to Joker. Once and for all. He has to assure peacefulness for Alia.

If it’s a war, there are now many fronts to keep up with. Batman’s main concern has always been Gotham and its people, not him. .

His body aches, but it is not the familiar ever-present pain that polluted his body since he came back from the dead. No. It is something different. The pain Jason starts to feel on the second day apart from his soulmate feels like someone pushing on his chest, trying to close down his throat.

Did he tame her or was it otherwise? They attracted each other like magnets. Alia was pretty much a wild animal on her own. Eating and living at her own pace. Doing everything on her own. But so was he. How much had their lives changed since finding each other a year ago?

Details are always there for those that look out for them. Red Hood interrogates some thugs and it's a fairly easy search.

Suddenly everyone is an expert on Gotham docks.

The work on the docks is being strictly guarded by GCPD, although they are suppose to be replaced with military agents soon enough. The president is planning on isolate Gotham until further explorations are done.

They are going to let the city rot. Just because it’s easier to let poor people die.

He is not letting it happen. Even if he can’t solve the mass problem for Gotham citizens, he is not going to let Joker exploit their weaknesses. Not again.

The docks are Gotham’s last resource. Their only path to a fairly normal exchange of goods and services. There are USAID boxes coming every day, supplies for those in need. A few ships have medical personnel and disaster management. It is their only way to the rest of the world.

He spends the next two days infiltrating among the workers from the docks. Their main operativity is at daylight, because the city has placed a curfew for all non-essential workers.

He survives on street food. His comfort foods do their best at keeping his mind ground to earth, but they do little when he beats up people to the ground.

Nothing calms him as violence. Jason thought that it was long forgotten. When the adrenaline cradles throughout his veins, he remembers Alia’s dried up blood on her lip corners.

Crime doesn’t stop nowhere. It just rises at times of panic. Red Hood whips off thugs like insects each night. It’s stupid how they try to benefit from the weakest.

Red Hood talks to some machinists and avoids Gordon’s men like the plague. From what he can gather, there has been some weird noises coming from the old side of the docks. The side that was forgotten from the last remodeling that was made by the mayor’s political campaign.

No one reached out there yet because the line that connected the old side to the bay was partially destroyed by one of Bane’s past attacks. It was barely accessible and the efforts and money it would cost didn’t make any sense from an already cut-off governmental funding.

It is his best lead, so far, but if he wants to approach any possible encounters with the Joker, he needs to have all the energy and resources he can gather.

Jason wanders around. Something his therapist once recommended. It doesn’t stop the absurd craving of viciousness but at least, it distracts him. He tells himself it serves a purpose to investigate their cause further, but it is just another half-truth.

People saw him. They know him as nothing more than the criminal boss that overtook Crime Alley a few years ago and helped its people overcome the ever-increasing rates of violence.  

He tends to avoid his usual spots, but it’s impossible to not stop over at his old place. His first childhood home. It is full of memories, that’s true. It also serves as a good hiding spot for ammunition. It is another half-truth for Jason.

The apartment is vacant. There are heavy woods where there used to be windows. It smells like old decaying flesh, as some dead rats must be rotting somewhere.

Jason lingers at what used to be the living room for long. He closes his eyes and just… breathes in. If he stays still enough, maybe his mind can allow him an instant of peace that is not filled with memories. Maybe he can allow himself to immerse in what someday was the only place he called home.

What would his mom think of him now?

She would say something about his hair, surely.

How would his father behave around Alia?

They would have tried their best. They always did, even when that was not enough.

“I know what you’re doing” A grunt voice speaks “We all do”

Jason’s hands reach out to his guns before he even attempts to open his eyes. It’s automatic. The barrel closes against the intruder's forehead in a single exhalation.

When he opens his eyes, he discovers that Damian is there, dressed on his Robin suit without the mask on. His little brother doesn’t flinch when the gun is put against his head. It’s not his first time under Jason's gun.

His sagacious eyes stares back at him with ferocity. Was he sent as Batman's messenger?

Nothing is going to make Jason stop this time. No amount of love or therapy or even fear itself.

“But -why here? Why the docks?”

Jason watches his younger brother. Truly watches him for the first time in a while. The baby fat on his cheeks has disappeared. His baggy eyes are deeper and darker than they once were. He can swear Damian has dropped off a few pounds since the last time he saw him, a couple days ago.

The gun is put down, back to his lining. Damian’s curiosity is genuine. Jason doesn’t know in which ground he stands on in regards of how they should manage Joker this time, but he can’t deny his questions are made by true interest.

“Just a feeling”

It’s easy to hide behind a few words. If Damian took that long to find him, it means that Alia hasn’t tell them anything about what they talked about. Not about their shared dream. Not about the consecutive talk. Not about their decision. 

“We’ll keep him out of your hair”

He won’t betray her by explaining further details, even to his own brother even if Damian is almost a full grown man now. As so are the rest. Damian is barely older than what he was when he died. There are still so many things he cannot comprehend.

It's not impossible to think that he came down there on his own. Jason doesn’t know what to answer so he stays silent.

Damian is promising to distract Batman. It can buy him at least another night or two.

Just enough time.

“We?”

It is impossible for him to not ask back. Damian shakes his head and attempts to put his mask on.

“We are, tsk... waiting for you. Back at home, you know" he says "Arsenal cannot keep his mouth shut. It is presumptuous.”

Damian looks down to his mask, hesitating to keep going, he smiles swiftly and finally puts it over his face.

Jason stays put together. Quiet. Contended. Still. As if the last nights in complete solitude hadn't affected him deeply. As if he does not miss his family with all his forces. As if he does not wish things could be any different.

“But she is doing so much better now, you should see” Robin adds after a break “Father is taking care of her.”

Chapter Text

The woman whose reflection returned her gaze seems… unfamiliar.

She has dull eyes and skin that glistened with the sticky sweat running down her forehead. Sharp cheekbones peep out from beneath thin skin that is one wash away from completely decomposing.

Her 5’5 height means she has to raise her gaze to properly observe Harleen's eyes. On the other side of the protective glass, she sits with one leg crossed over the other, in a suggestive posture that is typical of her personality.

Harleen is smiling. A pearly-toothed smile and curious words. Her lips were moving. Thin, pale lips. Without her usual clown makeup, Harleen is just so thoroughly pale. She has that sickly shade that characterized patients with advanced anemia.

Patients… Alia looks down at her worn hands. She knows. She is fully aware. Painfully aware. They would never return to normal. It’s still too early to determine the final percentage of damage, but they can't fool her. No matter how hard Jason's father tried to insist that he would fully regain feeling, Alia could tell the diagnosis isn't encouraging.

If she could be completely honest with herself, she feels dizzy. A moment of weakness she could only share in the privacy of her own mind. These were complicated times, extremely complicated. Could she allow herself to completely collapse?

No.

She looks up. Harleen was shrieking something about birds and sunsets. Alia’s ears are ringing. The blonde's high-pitched voice is inundating every corner of her mind. She wanted to unsettle her, yes, but Alia put herself in this situation. She has to endure it.

“You really outdid yourself this time, doctor”

She had a clear goal. A single goal.

“Harleen”

The inside of her mouth is dry. Alia is a terrible patient: She didn't obey strict bed rest orders, nor did she take her medications at the required times. She even ignored the mandate to avoid talking altogether.

It had always been this way. When she was a child, her mother had to chase her around the house to get her to take the strawberry-flavored cough syrup they bought specifically for her. Alia hates medications, hates lab tests. She hates being the patient.

"You came alone," Harleen points out. "Why is that, Doctor?"

Harley says her title hurriedly, mockingly. A mischievous smile twitched at the corners of her lips between each word. A silent reminder that in this field, they are not just colleagues, but like-minded. Similar stories.

Alia did her homework. She knew Harleen's history, her academic career, her scientific exploits. A prodigy in Psychiatry. There is no better person, sadly, to help her understand the effects of the Joker's toxin.

“He needs to die, Lia”

Jason whispered when they were in bed together and she wanted to beg him. Cry at his feet. It felt scary. Way too real. Way too close. Too soon.

She could have lied to him. Pretended she didn't support his decision. That she didn't understand. It would have been simpler. Jason would have given in to her crying, surely. It hurt him to see her cry. But the simple thought of it was unbelievable.

"Batman," Alia bellowed in her broken voice, "... Batman!"

Her skin was warm. The heavy blanket retained body heat in the middle of that frigid Gotham dawn. Under the shadows of the room, Jason's eyes seemed the size of the moon itself.

Alia didn't know many superheroes in the city, but she did know its protector. Everyone knew the city belonged to Batman; everything happened under his command. And he'd already worked closely with Red Hood. It couldn't be much different this time.

“He can’t kill, munchkin” Jason softly said, cupping her face between his hands “It gotta be me”

She could spend hours staring at Jason. Detailing every detail of his skin, etching the lines of each translucent scar like a fire-etched object.

His eyelids drooped over his eyes in a brief expression of pain, but there was no bitterness in his words. Only pain. She had become painfully perceptive since waking from her coma.

So much time in silence allowed her to observe what others couldn't. How many people could see through him? With all the pain in his past, Jason barely behaved like who he had once been.

“It’ll be okay. Remember what I told you?” He whispered “I take care of you. You take care of me. It works” Jason said “, you’ll do your part. Let me do mine”

He was such a softie when he put his voice in that delicate tone. A sweet reminder of what he once was. Alia remembered the horrible description Joker told her.

It felt like a bad memory. But it wasn’t. Under the pale moonlight, Jason resulted more vulnerable than ever. Thinking about him as a younger version of himself, barely a teenager, getting beat up to death, was horrifying.

“You told me someone has to do something”

Jason smiled softly at her, reassuring. Alia wanted to cling up to him and never let him go. Neither of them fucking knew what were they. Did it matter at the time? His skin burned against hers.

Barely a teenager. How many more have fell under Joker’s schemes? And she had helped him, even when she was forced to it. How many people were suffering while she hid under the covers of a luxurious bed?

She traced Jason’s face with her fingertip. Her ring finger’s fingertip. The only finger healthy enough to move on its own without bandages. His green eyes stared down at her. They were electric, even without any direct light.

 “We… can”

Jason’s head barely tilted. His brows furrowed. His rosy lips opened a little, smuggling a hint of confusion.

His expression of pure misunderstanding resulted almost cartoonish. She could imagine what he would have look like ten years ago. A skimpy teenager dying on a foreign land under fire and smoke.

“No” Jason severed “Alia…”

Joker only messed up with the innocents. People that were not expecting it. She had felt untouchable before, unaware of the true danger around her. As so must a younger Jason have felt. And Akiko. And Domi. And those all those people on those incidents that G! News was livestreaming 24/7

It was a messed-up game. Joker had all the winning cards just because he was the only one that knew he was playing.

If she told him what she was thinking…? Would he tell anyone else?

She held his hands between hers. Jason was cold to touch, as usual. It was normal of him. He had been dead for years. Her boy. Dead. Taken away from her.

She had killed someone too. In pure, cold blood. The glass on her hand shattered some poor bastard’s neck up until there was nothing of it left behind. But that was something she had not dared to tell anyone. Not even him. The memories of such event should have been left out in the past where they belong.

Could she forgive herself? By everything she had been through. Every single oath she had broken. Every single person she had let down. Every single one of her parents’ teachings… Could she forgive herself?

Jason’s breaths were harsh. He was going through the start of a bad case of common cold. His immune system was taking the upper hand of so many all-nighters and worriedness.

Her boy. Her poor boy. When she talked, his hands were shaking beneath hers.

“I am… looking” She said, forcing her sore throat “for an answer”

Jason remained silent but it was obvious he was not pleased by the idea.  I’ll do it, she wished to be able to tell him in a proper way, whether you liked it or not.

“Us” She slowly added. “, we can”

It was infuriating not being able to express her own ideas fully. Just a few words. Just a few sentences before her throat started to bleed out internally again and then she would start to choke on her own blood while talking. Pure exasperation. Being kept a prisoner on her own body.

“I-… What do you have in mind? No one can know about this, Alia” Jason said “, do you understand that?”

She held into his hands tighter. Now they were both shaking.

“Only us” Alia assured.

“Only us” Jason muttered.

People said Batman was Gotham’s demon. A supernatural force that could only come out at night. A soulless creature that possessed a different man up until it drained him of all his life force.

Robin must not be that different then. Her neighbors told her once that he was some kind of evil spirit that was able to inflict hallucinations on people.

Alia is not so sure they are any kind of supernatural creatures but they definitely are… quiet, to say the least.

On the fourth night after Jason's disappearance, they had appeared in her room. Silent, stealthy. Like a pair of shadows materializing out of thin air.

They had asked for her help. One thread of their investigation had led them to a dead end in their interrogation of Harley Quinn: The woman asked about the status of Dr. Alia Gomez.

Batman sensed that she would be a good alternative to continue the interrogation of the criminal, an interrogation that had otherwise proved fruitless. Harley Quinn just spoke nonsense between daydreams and tears.

Alia had then put on her best outfit and the brown leather jacket Jason had left behind. She had tried, with all her might, to be strong enough not to burst into tears in front of the others.

Every doctor in the city knew about Harleen Quinzel’s story. It used to be told as the prime example of what not to do when working on Gotham’s hospitals.

Harley’s cell is… sadly empty. Just a simple bed and a single chair with a table. An exposed WC that faced the crystal window with no privacy. Nothing else.

She looks small. Alone and dirty. The unwashed makeup on her face incredible aged her for at least a dozen years. It was freeze cold inside the room also, and the only thing Harley Quinn wears are her little clothes.

Alia thinks about her warm bed at the Wayne’s, always perfectly made up by Alfred. She should feel bad for Harley. She thinks about Bruce’s attempt to a conversation and Jason’s attention to detail to make sure everything was perfect for her.

“You’re… brilliant,” Alia mutters, pulling a sheet of paper from her jacket pocket, “the… toxin.”

WHAT DOES THE GAS DO TO THE MIND?

WHAT DOES THE GAS DO TO THE MIND?

WHAT DOES THE GAS DO TO THE MIND?

WHAT DOES THE GAS DO TO THE MIND?

WHAT DOES THE GAS DO TO THE MIND?

Her fingertips are bleeding. Again. They stain the paper sheet and also the crystal glass when she puts them against it to show Harley her notes. She'd written the same sentence a dozen times. Crossed out over itself. Just enough to make sense. Harley scanned the paper with her bright blue eyes and laughed.

Alia can be a pretty good doctor, but only on her field. She can understand how the chemicals can mess up a brain from the very inside. But she is far from comprehend the deepness of the mind. That was Dr. Harleen playfield. She used to know it better than anyone else.

Is it a desperate move? Alia’s mind screams at her for not doing enough, even when only resisting the extreme urge to puke she is experimenting feels like an extraordinary amount of effort. People are dying, she tells herself. There are bigger things to worry about than her tortured mind trying to play tricks on her.

It doesn’t matter, really. It’s what Alia tells herself when she feels the surge of panic once Harley steps one foot in front of her.

Alia holds onto the paper sheet like it could save her. It is her only companion inside that room. Harley agreed to be examined by her, but only her and no one else. Batman and Robin and the rest of Gotham police officers could wait outside.

Alia knows what the liquid does. It burns. The tissue inside her mouth remembers the taste of the acid flavor. She remembers the nightmares she was put under. How difficult it was to tell the reality apart from the screams. But then again, the victims on the street inhaled it. A different factor that Alia hadn’t gone through. She needed more insight on the true effects on people in a larger scale.

“Shows ya’ your worst fears, doctor” Harley Quinn says after laughing “Fucks up your amygdala. Ups the gamma aminobutyric acid. Don’t you know that?”

She puts her face closer to the window cells. She stares deeply at her. If Alia stays still enough, she can feel Harleen examining her soul. Her skin feels numb.

“Oh, but you know. You ain’t here for that.” Harley adds “Oh, let me guess! Your little bird is outta town?”

Each breath is more difficult to do. The oxygen is raspy and cold against Alia’s depressed lungs. Her body screams to her, as so does her mind.

But she does not move.

“he is”

Alia remembers how a woman’s skin stuck into her gloves. Her flesh melting on real time in front of her eyes. It had been an unsophisticated version of the toxin she developed. She remembers Jason’s warm embrace against her shaky body that evening she had a panic attack over a it.

Harley laughs. Alia does not move.

Fear shines through the blonde’s eyes as she realizes something that she doesn’t say out loud. She’s thinking about her maniac lover. Under all her funny façade, she knows Red Hood is going after Joker.

“We knew it” Harley says and then stays silent for a brief moment “I liked your boy before, ya’ know that?”

Alia remains silent. She doesn’t move despite the mention of a younger Jason resonates every single fiber of her soul.

“Before dying, oh. He was a bright boy” she says “He came here with big B. Just like you do.”

Big B. Batman. Joker told her about how he let Jason all alone, undermining his worries. She used to like the vigilante, but now all she can do is see him under a very different light.

“It was an eternity ago, of course” Harleem say “, he was this petit child. He talked a lot. Great jokes tho.”

It’s hard for Alia to picture such a bright child in such a dark place as Arkham. She needs to pay no attention to Harley’s words. She needs to focus. Not wander. Not let herself be consume by thoughts.

“I understand… the brain” Alia interrupts, trying to get her point across the table “, you understand the… mind”

Alia hates how slow she has become. How everything hurts. How she cannot translate her thoughts into words without pain.

Harley shakes her head. Her blonde hair strives all around the place.

“I'm gonna need more specifics, sweetheart.” She says “How about we try some word association?”

Harley Quinn tries to play with her like a cat playing with her food. She leans her hips gracefully around the glass that separates both of them, trying to come off as charmful.

“Help”

Harley laughs. Her warm breath forms a cloudy patch against the glass reflection. She draws a simple heart with her fingertips imitating the way in which Alia’s fingers shake, mocking her.

“I used to work here. Didn't I mention that? I was good” Harley cheerfully says. She takes a brief look across the place “I was very good. Long before I met my pumpkin”

Alia sighs. The asylum is awfully quiet at that time of the night. Harley’s words are a painfully reminder that they are still playing on her field. It is her place, even after all those years, but Alia can’t let those thoughts win her.

Look at her, Alia tells herself, tell yourself she is just a woman.

She has weaknesses too. She studied the same topics you did. She took the same courses. She knows the same things but under different lights. Brain and mind. Matter and thoughts. She can read you as much as you can read her.

She is just a woman. She thinks she is so much better because she believes she is the only one that knows they are playing.

“You… fucked up… his plan”

“No” Harley cuts her off harshly before she can even finish her idea “No. Don’t say that. It wasn’t like that”

Harley believed she could play with Alia’s sensitive topics freely. Did she believe she would not play back? It is dumb to guess so for such a smart woman.

“He left, didn’t … he?” Alia says “, not… you”

The smirk that forms on Alia’s lips is inevitable. Love is truly a fucked-up thing.

“No! No! No!” Harley screams frantically “You showed him your fear! Not me!”

Harley starts hitting the crystal in front of her. Fear. Alia thinks. People fear a lot of things. Heights, tiny places, clowns. Alia used to believe she was scared of Harley Quinn. Of all the things she could do to her.

Look at her, Alia tells herself, tell yourself she is just a woman.

“YOU! You shouldn’t be awake! You fucked things up! Not me! Psycho bitch! He wanted to kill you! I shoulda let him!”

Alia looks inside the cell, where Harley Quinn keeps screaming, but she is also crying. She looks intimately broken. No much bigger than a young girl going through her first heartbreak.

Someone as smart as Harleen Quinzel, insane and disrupted just because of a weak heart.

“You think you're scary, don’t you?” Harley says “But, oh miss, I've seen scary and you ain't got his smile."

Harley tells her what she needed. Exactly what she came for. She doesn’t know it. For sure. Love makes people do weird things. Behave weirdly. Love or obsession? What was it? Alia thinks of Jason’s hands over her hips, holding her closer into the kiss.

She now knows. Fear. Pain. Breath. The mechanisms close on Alia’s mind. There is now a way on her brain to stop the cascade of symptoms from the toxin.

The missing part on her puzzle is finally solved: The brain shuts close but the mind is still working. Physiological factors paralyzed but intrinsic cognitive functions remain.

The toxin traps people inside their nightmares. High cortisol and high adrenaline but the usual meds for it won’t work because they can’t turn the minds off. That’s why there were so many chemical mixes. It’s the contrary from a coma. The patients cannot sleep. They are dying from cardiac and lung arrests.

Harley keeps screaming but she sounds far, far away. Alia looks at her broken fingers. The glass is stained with her blood. The blood of her precious hands. The thing she took the most care of in her entire life were now just a painful reminder of what once Harley was capable of doing to her.

Her voice comes out of her disheveled throat without any pain, for the first time in a long time:

“I have no fear” Alia whispers

Chapter Text

There is a dead dog on the sideway.

A tiny little thing. A ball of fur crippled upon itself. The ears are up, rigid as a piece of wood. By that time, it isn’t even a dog. Just a puppy not much bigger than the size of his palms.

Jason had watched the creature wander the streets some days ago. The tiny tail barely had any strength to swing briefly. They shared food. Cold fries and a piece of cheese burger. Jason took off the lid of an old soda can to give her some water.

Damian is the one to have this whole thing for animals, but Jason thought it wouldn’t hurt anybody just to share a couple greasy fries with the animal.

The days grew longer, and the solitude of his quest stretched out his unnerved mind. The puppy and her soft breathing followed him around while he worked on his investigation. He didn’t mind. He took his time to assure the animal didn’t get into any trouble. Some crackheads received a good couple beatings just because they dared to try and kick the puppy.

Now, Jason’s companionship is nothing more than a dead dog on the sideway.

A tiny rigid body. As tiny that she couldn’t properly run after him. Dead. Her tiny body remains warm. Warm but not alive. Her ribcage stays solid under the thin piece of her brown fur.

It is a bright Sunday morning. The first one in months. Such a strange occasion for Gotham’s weather. There is a soft breeze. Refreshing. People walk up past him, hurrying to get somewhere no one even knows.

The world keeps spinning, even if there is a dead dog on the sideway. Nothing ever changes.

Why is he weeping then? The dog hadn’t died by Joker’s toxin. She hadn’t been hit by a car. No one beat her up to dead. No. The dog died. Dryly. Some natural cause.

Why is he crying?

It is deep. Sorrow. His own mortality ranked up in front of him in the form of nothing more than a tiny dog, not older than a few months.

It was stupid. Jason cries up for so long he has to double down to throw up at the side of the puppy’s dead body. A few hours before, she had been waving her tail at him. Now she is just rigid. A mere shell.

It was a natural death. Some form of severe malnutrition or maybe it was worms. He couldn’t have done anything different, could he? Hadn’t he been so focused on his fatal quest, he might have been able to notice at the right time. Maybe alerted someone else. Someone that could take care of her.

Take care of her. He doesn’t move for hours. The smell grows worse with time. A couple flies catch over the odor. A few of them pose over him.

They aren’t so different, the dead dog and him. Both had tasted the cold briefness of the absolutely nothing in the afterlife. Only he had been luckier.

Had he?

Maybe it was just nonsense. He had seen many dead bodies before. But he never sticked around long enough to see their limps go still. Jason sat at the side of the dead puppy for hours, up until her skin became cold and her chest stayed rigid under her fur.

Sheila. It was a silly name. Not one as silly as Alia may have choose, but Jason liked it. The dead dog didn’t seem to totally understand it was the name he had chosen for her, but for some brief instances, she seemed to like it.

Was it a click? Something more. He cleans the rests of puke from the corners of his mouth. It all feels suddenly too stupid. What has his life been but an infinite dance over a clown? A literal clown. Chasing after it all. Chasing after his parents, after Bruce, after him.

And what was life but a serie of infinite instants? And he is nothing but just a man. Time would catch up with him eventually. He won’t be able to cheat death twice. No one even have been able to cheat death even once. Not even Bruce. But with him, it had been different.

Why?

The death of his only companionship awoke something inside of him that he thought long gone.

Violence. It’s the only thing he craves. It isn’t nonsense violence but something deeper. Primal. Violence. Once and for all. It can all stop that night.

Jason stares at the guns at his feet and then his sight crosses to the Bay’s old side. It's allegedly Joker’s possible hide spot. His best shot at getting him. He could end it once and for all.

Time is clocking against him. Against them. It would not be long before Alia’s mind collapsed over the trauma. It would not be long until Batman catches up he is being mislead by his own children.

His soulmate mark pulsates under his skin. Who cheats death twice? No one. He could have been sharing his gifted time with Alia, with his family or his friends. Working on his bike. Doing anything but staying at the side of a dead dog while plotting to kill a mental ill clown.

Life is strange. At noon, Jason Peter Todd buries a dead dog near Vauxhall Centre.